Everything Was Beautiful
by DCFanatic4life
Summary: Stephanie McMahon has known Chris Irvine for 29 years, yes, that's right 29 years! Slight AU...obviously...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or real people in this story. The characters belong to the WWE and the real people own themselves.

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**A/N: I'm a glutton for punishment obviously since I'm starting yet another new story. I just have so many ideas and I want to write them all. You can thank Jodi (StephanieIrvine) for this story. We were talking about Shane and Marissa and how they had grown up together and we speculated what it would be like if Chris and Steph had grown up together and this is what came out.

To preface, it's a slight AU. I've fudged the ages because I wanted to so both Shane and Chris are only 2 years older than Stephanie instead of the usual 6. Other than that, it's probably not that different. I've got big ideas for this story and I hope this first chapter lives up to expectations, I just hope it's okay. Please leave a review and let me know what you think, if you want to be brutal, I've no problem with that. I just hope you enjoy. :)

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I've known Chris Irvine for 29 years.

He was the little blond boy across the street. I remember when he moved in, okay, I don't really, but my parents do. His father was a hockey player and they decided to move to Connecticut because he was playing for New York, but didn't want to live anywhere near the city, too stuffy, I remember my dad telling my mom after he went over there. I think my dad was relieved to have a sports player in our snobby neighborhood. He's in the sports business too, a different kind sure, but still, it was nice to have some solidarity with someone around here.

I don't remember much from our first meeting. My mom took me over there, she tells me, because she knew they had a young son. He was two years older than me and what I do remember from that day is his shy smile as he sat next to his mother. My mom says that I smiled back and that he hesitantly asked me if I wanted to play. I nodded my head silently. My mom also tells me she couldn't understand why as boisterous a kid as I am suddenly turned silent around this young kid. I'd been around huge (and in the case of Andre the Giant, massive) wrestlers, but this little boy vexed me.

We went off to play with one another, our mothers talking and discussing. He only had boy toys. He was an only child, I understand now that he was such a handful that his mother probably only wanted one child. Luckily for him though, I liked playing with trucks and cars and trains. I think he was surprised. I remember him handing me a toy and watching in fascination as I played with it, my brown hair in the stupid bowl cut falling in my eyes as his blue eyes trailed me across the room. I like to think he was impressed and had never seen a girl like me before. He's never told me exactly what he thought though, one of the mysteries of life I suppose.

He's the same age as Shane, but he never excluded me when they were together. I think Shane was all too happy to leave me in his dust when he was running around the backyard, but Chris never did. He always waited up for me, much to Shane's chagrin. Shane would whine and yell, "Chris, come on, we can leave the _baby_ behind." Chris never left me behind though, letting me tag along wherever they happened to go. When we'd ride bikes around the neighborhood, he'd keep up with my slow self, training wheels still affixed to the sides of my pink bicycle. I wonder if Shane teased him about always being conscientious of me.

I think a lot of it had to do with the fact Chris was an only child. He told me when he was a little older, he must have been around 9 that he always wanted a little brother or sister. I think I was that surrogate sister he'd always wanted. His dad was away a lot, so was mine, so our moms would often have the other over for dinner. I spent so many nights at a table with Chris, Shane, my mom, and his mom that they became like a second family to me. We even had joint Thanksgivings since his parents were Canadian and didn't really celebrate Thanksgiving so my family always invited them over. They were more family to us than my actual family.

I think I fell in love with him when I was 10.

I don't think I actually knew what it was, love that is. I knew I loved my parents and I occasionally loved Shane, but when I was around Chris, I just got these butterflies in my stomach. I'd had crushes before, but usually they were on actors or people I didn't interact with regularly. Chris was always there though, he was around and I don't know, I just started to feel differently about him. I think the moment was when I was watching him in one of his junior league hockey games. I was sitting on the end of the bleacher, Shane next to me. His parents were watching us for the weekend while my parents had business. He was skating over to the bench to take a break and he looked back and smiled at me and the most peculiar feeling settled in my bones. It wasn't euphoria, but it was pretty damn close.

From then on, whenever he'd smile at me, that same feeling would creep into me, like ivy climbing my skin, circling around my torso, threatening to choke me with feeling. He was older, there was that appeal, but then he was my friend, my _best _friend and there was that appeal too. Even when I started high school and was a stupid, lowly freshman, Chris made sure to hang out with me. He didn't care what his friends thought, what other people thought. High school had such a dichotomy, with the upperclassmen and the lowerclassmen being such a huge gap when it was only four measly years.

Chris didn't care about this stupid separation. He hung out with me regardless of my age. It was a comforting thing to have someone look out for you when you were scared of this new place, this new school. He showed me everything and even introduced me to some of his favorite teachers. He looked out for me and he didn't have to. I knew his friends would tease him about associating with a freshman, which was idiotic now that I look back on it. Teenagers can be so cruel. There are two years between me and Chris, two years! It wasn't like there was a whole decade between us or something.

I was really sad when he went off to college. He wanted to become a wrestler at this point. I guess my dad had really drilled that into him, but his parents, plus my parents as well, encouraged him to go to college. He resisted at first, I tease him about being such a rebel now, but it was a smart thing. He ended up going to the same college as my brother and I was jealous that Shane was going to be around him when I couldn't, when I was still stuck in high school. Chris trained on the side and after graduating, he started traveling the world, gaining experience everywhere. He went back up to Canada and then he went to Japan and Europe and all over the place, only coming home every so often.

He would always make it a point to spend time with me whenever he was home. I appreciated that and he made sure to be home for my high school graduation before he flitted to Mexico and I headed down to Boston to follow in my brother's footsteps, attending the same university he and Chris did. Chris and I definitely kept in touch and he'd send me tapes his matches and I'd praise him and tell him that someday, we were going to rule the wrestling world. We would turn it on its heels and send everyone running for the hills with our reign of terror. He'd laugh and tell me he liked that idea and his laugh would send shivers through me every time.

Now, I know that I loved him by this point, but telling him was another story. I never felt like I could. There was never some perfect moment, never a time when we were sitting somewhere watching the sunset and I could just turn to him and tell him that I loved him, that I wanted to be with him for always. There was never a moment and so I tried to bury it, but it never stayed buried long. I'd lose myself in other guys, but other guys were never Chris and they never lasted too long because no matter how hard I looked or tried to change them, I wasn't a witch, I couldn't magically make them the one man I wanted.

Chris dated too, he told me if he had a girlfriend, thinking that I wouldn't care and just talking about his life wherever he was. He'd never know the little pangs it brought to my heart, where it felt like my chest was collapsing unto itself. Nobody in his life every lasted long either, but that was because he was constantly moving from place to place and never had time for one girl. He was never really a ladies man anyways, preferring to train for wrestling or hang out with me. He was kind of shy in high school, which is strange to think now because he's so loud and obnoxious (some of the time...all of the time).

When he went to WCW, I think my whole family was in shock. When he came home and we all had dinner, his parents, my parents, my dad asked him about it and he said that they'd made an offer. My dad confessed that he was about to make an offer to Chris himself and someone over at WCW must have heard about it and offered it first. Chris felt bad for signing and he made sure to tell my dad that the second his contract expired he'd come over to the WWF and that made that dinner a little lighter.

By the time Chris's contract ran out, he _wanted _to be gone from WCW. My dad wanted him on board too so it was like a match made in heaven and once again, Chris was around all the time. It was like old times again and despite all this time, my feelings hadn't changed at all. He kept dating and I kept feeling like the loser best friend who couldn't get over a decades old crush. We both dated other people, but relationships are hard and I can't get over Chris and I know I should, but I can't and he just couldn't have a relationship last for the life of him.

So here I am, about to turn 32, single, no prospects, crushing after a guy I've known since I was 3, who I've been in love with for 22 years, who doesn't even look at me like that. I'm pathetic, God, I'm the most pathetic thing on the planet. It's not like I couldn't have a boyfriend or a husband or kids or a real life. I just can't commit to something I know will be second best and it kills me to feel this way, but telling him _now_? After all these years, I just...I'm scared. I'm a wuss. Like I said, I'm pathetic and scared. If he doesn't want me, we can't be friends, it'll be too awkward and one of us will have to go away or something, I don't even know.

"Hey, Scout," Chris says to me as he passes me at the production table. He's been calling me Scout since he was 11 and he read _To Kill a Mockingbird_. I'm the Scout to his Jem and somehow Shane is Dill, which doesn't even make sense because Jem and Scout were brother and sister and Dill was the friend, but I guess it's his way of claiming me as his sister. See what I mean about him not thinking of me in any romantic terms whatsoever.

Sometimes when he has his arm around me or his kisses my cheek in greeting or he holds my hand, I can pretend for a while that he's mine. It's sad, I know, but it's all I have right now and it's probably all I'll ever have so I try to make the most of it. Sometimes I just let my hand linger there for a moment, possessively, like I can actually be possessive of something that isn't mine in the first place.

"Hey," I say back, expecting him to go to his locker room, but he makes a sharp left and comes and sits next to me. He leans his head on my shoulder and watches the monitor in front of me.

"When are you coming back?" he asks me, something he's asked me nearly every day since I started being on TV less and focusing more on backstage stuff.

"Chris..."

"Come on, Scout, you _need _to be back on TV. It's no fun without you," he whines. "Nobody wants to see your dad or your brother. They want to see you."

"Name one person who wants to see me."

"Me," he said cheekily. I looked down at him and he has his eyes closed.

"You tired?"

"I did just have a grueling match," he said. "That's what happens when you come back and you end up being the best thing ever."

Chris left for a while, a move that I could see coming. He'd been burnt out and I couldn't blame him. We put so much on him because he's never really let us down before. He's been there and he confessed to me that he was really tired and just needed a long break. I thought he meant like a couple months. When one year stretched into two, I begged him to come back and he told me that he could never say no to me and he couldn't say no then either and so he came back because that's what best friends do.

"Yeah, that's what you think," I joke with him.

"Are you saying I'm not the best?" he asks, acting like I've insulted his mother.

"Yup, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"How dare you, Scout."

"Oh, how dare I," I tell him with a laugh.

"What's so funny, you two?" I look up and see my dad standing there. I've always gotten the feeling from him that he wants us to get married because he wants Chris in his actual family instead of just a man he looks at like a son.

"Nothing Mr. McMahon, sir," Chris jokes. He does that occasionally. Whenever Dad brings around an investor or some new bigwig with the company, he always tells the story of when he first met Chris, this little boy who kept calling him, "Mr. McMahon, sir," so Chris calls him that every once in a while.

"I just wanted to tell you how great the feud with Shawn has been going," my dad says to Chris. "I think we need to give you a lot more free reign with your feuds, I'm really liking the material and the progression you come up with. Come to the production meetings from now on."

"Vince, are you trying to say that you want me to take over Stephanie's position?" I shove him in the shoulder for that comment. No way would I let him take my job.

"Well, I didn't want to break it to Stephanie like this."

"You two are not funny," I pout and Chris nudges me in the shoulder.

"I'm afraid she's mad at me now," my dad says, pretending to be upset about it.

"I'll get the mad out of her," Chris tells him and my dad walks off because he probably just thought of some other thing he has to do around here. Chris leans over and kisses me on the cheek. "Scout, don't be sad, I'll just be the Vice President of Creative, how does that sound?"

His lips burned their imprint onto my cheek and I have to revel in it a moment. Just a moment though and then I'm looking at him, "Okay, you can be the Vice President then."

"Awesome," he says, giving a fist pump. He goes back to leaning his head on my shoulder and watching the show with me. "Scout?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think anyone could replace what you do," he tells me sincerely and I can feel the smile on his lips.

I'm never getting out.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews for this! I was like, not even sure what the hell I was doing, I just have a lot of ideas for this one and I'm glad you're liking it so far, please continue to review, pretty please with a cherry on top! :P

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I think being a coward is a lot easier than being brave.

Being brave is hard work. You have to stick yourself out there, be someone, do something for all the world to see and that's hard, especially when you're me and you know people hate you out there. I've read it all. 'Stephanie looks like a fat cow,' 'Stephanie had a botched nose job,' 'Stephanie is ruining the WWE.' Does it get any easier to bear every time I hear it or read about it? No, it doesn't, but you learn to deal. Maybe that's why I'm not as brave as I should be or could be. Sticking your toe over that line, being _noticed_, it's a scary thing. Being with Chris, I know it would be the best, but it's so hard being brave.

So I stay a coward. A coward never has to do anything or be anyone. They never put their toe over that line because being noticed is the last thing a coward wants to do. They run from the line and I know I run from the line. I think there have been plenty of opportunities for me to bump up my relationship with Chris to the next level. I just play the coward when every one of them arises. Sad, yes, but I never said I wasn't the saddest specimen of person known to man.

The best opportunities have been during our storylines....where we've kissed...if you could call those kisses. They weren't meant to be anything, not really. He was just supposed to press his lips against mine, brutal my father said, so as to look like Chris hated doing it, but could think of no other way to get me away from the ring. I was supposed to hate them, both times, but I slipped, as I'm wont to do because this is the man I love here. The only reason that my father let him kiss me was because he's the wrestler he trusts the most. It took my father two months to even allow the storyline between me and Paul to be executed because he didn't want me kissing the man. I think he believes Chris is innocuous, but if Chris wanted anything more, I think I'd be naked by the time he finished his sentence, even if he didn't want sex.

I know I shouldn't count those kisses as anything more than acting because we weren't the Stephanie and Chris we usually are when we had those kisses. I was playing an absolute horrible bitch and he was playing this cocky jackass that the fans adored. That's not us. Chris has seen me in every possible situation. He would never call me those names, it was just an act. I couldn't help but let myself revel in those kisses just a tiny bit. Any person in my situation would, really, wouldn't they? The first one was more obvious. I've seen it a million times since they played it about a million times and so I've seen how, at the very end, I start to kiss him back.

That wasn't part of the storyline, that was just me, hoping to get a little more of what I've always wanted. He never asked about it though, he probably thought I was just playing it up, making it look like there could be something there. I often wonder if I'd have asked if he felt something, he would've told me he would. I wish I could say there was a moment afterwards where we looked at each other and something crackled between us like electricity during a storm, but we didn't. I'm not sure we've ever had those moments. _I've_ had those moments with him, where I look at him and see everything I want and everything I can't have all melded together in a gathering of molten, smoldering air, but maybe he's just clueless.

I pushed all of those storylines between us on the table, maybe I'm obvious, I don't know. I really wanted that affair storyline. It was actually my idea, not Chris's. We'd been talking one night and I'd mentioned that it would be hilarious if it actually came out that our characters had been having an affair the entire time and the whole hate thing was just a cover-up. He'd brought it up at the next production meeting (he has an open invitation to attend, he has since he was 14 actually, when my father let him and Shane sit in on them and see how the business worked from the inside) and we'd all thought it was a great idea (me especially, what?). Well, except Paul that is. He's always trying to preserve his image. He thought that Triple H would never have a wife who cheated on him.

I'm not saying anything against his character, but well, if I were married to him, I'd probably cheat on him.

The guy just isn't my type. When Chris came back after his hiatus, my first inkling was to put him in a storyline with myself, but, well, that would've been too obvious. See what I mean about being brave? If I would've put myself out there, maybe he would catch a clue and Lord knows Chris needs to catch a clue like a spider needs to catch a bug. But I didn't and let him feud with Randy. I eventually did mention that when I returned as the interim General Manager it would be cool if I had some scenes with Chris and it was great...until Paul came along and ruined everything _again_.

You have to understand, Paul sees in me what a lot of guys see in me...power. Forget my personality, looks, intelligence, wit, everything else, it's all about the power for some of these guys. Oh, what can Stephanie do for me? Paul thinks he can lord himself over me even though I've never dated the guy a day in my life. For some reason because we were on-screen married he thinks that we're off-screen kin or something. It's quite frustrating. He wanted in on the storyline so my father came up with the brilliant (sarcasm meter: level high) idea of having Stephanie and Hunter never divorced but in fact married...with children! The children were Paul's idea, made him look better he said. I wanted to kick him in his baby-maker.

Chris laughed me that night, teasing me about having to pretend to be married to Paul again. I wasn't so happy and he picked up on it and said he was actually pretty bummed out that he wouldn't get to work with me again. We do have fun when we work together, I don't like _all_ of my teenage-like angst get in the way of our work together. I think, judging from the people that seem to enjoy us, that we're entertaining. I hope we entertain people at least. When we go out there, we're a different Chris and Stephanie, but a lot of the time, we want to be ourselves and almost end up laughing in each other's face. I wonder if people pick up on that.

"I need a girlfriend!"

I look up as Chris walks into the room, looking exhausted and exasperated. He should be exhausted, it's after Raw and I'm in my hotel room and...wait, how did _he_ get in my hotel room?

"How did you get in here?" I ask. "I didn't give you the key."

"They gave you two when you checked in, I pilfered one when you weren't looking," he said, holding up the key card. "You've got nobody so I figured that I could have it."

"Wow, thanks for pointing out how pathetic I am," I tell him. He doesn't need to rub it in that I'm single. I wouldn't be single if someone just knocked him upside the head with the knowledge of my freaking love for him. Tell him, Stephanie, tell him, _tell him_, _**tell him**_**!**

He pouts, "It's okay, Scout, I'm in the same boat you are, I'm single, but damn it, I do need a girlfriend." He collapses on the bed next to me and then turns his head so it's in line with mine, where I've been lying on my stomach watching TV and mulling over the intricacies of my very cowardly existence. Oh yeah, how's that for some teenage angst?

"Why? So you can dump her two days later."

"Nah, I need someone who can give me a killer massage whenever my tired 34 year old body needs it."

"You act like you're old, you're not old," I tell him.

"I'm older than you are, Scout," he tells me and it's true, but not by much, not anymore. It seemed like such a huge gap when we were younger, especially when he started high school and I was still stuck in middle school, we might as well have been worlds apart at that point, but now, two years was absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things.

"Yeah, but you act like you have the body of a 70 year old," I say, "You don't need a girlfriend just to get a massage."

Just ask me!

"Well, I also need one, you know, for the loving aspect of it," he winks. I hate when he talks about his sex life. I do not need to picture him with other women. Unfortunately, I've heard about every conquest Chris has ever had, some in excruciatingly painful detail. If anyone ever wanted to torture me, like_ really_ torture me, that's all they'd have to talk about. The jealous runs deep within me. "Plus, the having a girlfriend thing, making my mom believe that I will someday settle down with someone even though I don't see it happening."

"You say that all the time, but I don't believe you're a lifer for bachelorhood," I tell him, or at least I hope he's not. If I have to become an old spinster or cat lady because Chris will not see me the way I see him, I may just go crazy in some way and end up in a padded cell somewhere.

"Which is why I need the aforementioned girlfriend, keep up, Scout."

"Do you need a massage right this second?"

"It'd be nice, I'm sore from my match earlier and then I was sitting on a barstool for a couple of hours and those things are not great for your back because there's no support."

"Who'd you go drinking with this time?"

"Some of the new guys," he answers. "Jake, Evan, you know, the newer ones, showing them what's what, being a veteran and all."

"That's nice of you," I say, then add, because I know him, "Did you drink them under the table?"

"Do I seem drunk to you?"

"No," I admit.

"They were lightweights, three beers each and they were done. I've got to work on that, it's shameful."

"You're shameful," I let him know.

"Nah, I'm not even buzzed, really. I didn't want to be because I am flying back home tomorrow and I will be having dinner at my parent's house and I don't want a killer hangover while I'm there because my mom has a real penchant for knowing when I'm hungover."

"Interesting."

"Come to dinner, you'll already be in town since we live in the same town, oh wait, we live in the same _house_. That's right."

Did I mention that Chris and I live together? I didn't? Yes, we actually live together and no, not in the same bed, though...if the invitation were extended, I'd have no problem giving up my nice, soft bed for his firm and very manly smelling one. Maybe I'd just move him into my room instead of the other way around. He did allow me to have the master bedroom because I had more girly stuff than he did. We've lived together since I was 22. He was 24 and in WCW, but my parents would not allow me to live alone. They said it was too dangerous for a single woman to live by herself though I think single women have been doing pretty well on their own from what I've seen.

Chris took me in, if taking me in is a good word. My parents had had Chris and his family over for one of our dinners and they'd been talking about my living arrangements and how I'd be moving back home after I graduated since it would be best for everyone (except me, but my opinion sometimes doesn't matter to my parents). Chris said he had a spare room and offered to have me live with him. My parents didn't object because they love Chris and trust him with my safety so off to Chris's I went and that's how it's been for the last 10 years...so in addition to being in love with him for about the last 22 years, I've also been living with him for the last 10.

And yes, that means I've seen some of his conquests the next morning, rushing out into the crisp morning air, shoes in hand and coat slung over them hastily as Chris watches from the front door. My life is just a comedy of errors really, but at least all of this gives me fortitude. I'll let people know when I figure out what the hell a person can do with fortitude. I haven't quite figured it out yet.

"Yeah, sure," I say, not wanting to miss a dinner with his parents. I love them, they've always been like a second set of parents to me. "Turn over."

"What?"

"You said you needed a massage, turn over, I'll give you one."

"Normally, I'd say I couldn't ask you to do that, but since you're offering and since I'm sore, I'm going to take you up on that," he says as he obediently turns on his stomach. I kneel on my shins as he pulls his shirt off and tosses it off the bed. Seeing him shirtless doesn't make me stir, I see him shirtless enough. Now, when the clothes come completely off, I'll stir. I start to knead his warm skin as he turns his head so he can at least look in my general direction. "Okay, so girlfriend, how do we get me one?"

"Well, with you, you go into some club, point at a girl and she falls at your feet," I say, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I shouldn't be bitter, it's my own cowardice that holds me back.

"I don't want a floozy, I want a girlfriend, let's focus on women in the company."

I snort in laughter, "Wow, okay, so you said you didn't want a floozy and yet you want someone in the company, don't those two go hand-in-hand?"

"Meow, cat fight!" Chris exclaims. "One little kitten is very jealous of the other little kittens."

"I'm not jealous."

"Then when call names."

"Because I can," I tell him. I'm not jealous, I just know what goes on backstage and I know Chris knows what goes on backstage. He can't be that naïve.

"Okay, let's run down the list, shall we?"

"Fine," I groan as he I continue to massage his lower back, not getting too close to his waistline.

"Give me names here, Scout, you're the head of creative, you know names, name them."

"I hate you," I tell him just for good measure. "Fine, Michelle?"

"Taker's girl, no thank you. Don't want his sloppy seconds or rather, wouldn't want to break them up, next."

"Nikki or Brie?"

"I don't like dating a twin," he tells me and that's news to me. "I always fear that they'll pull the ol' switcheroo on me, don't want to deal with that, wondering if I'm really dating two girls, next."

"Beth is married, so she's a no go, Maria?"

"Maria is pretty, yes," Chris says and I inadvertently start pressing harder against his skin. "Oww, watch it, Steph, but Maria's not my type, so next."

"Natalya?"

"No."

"No explanation?"

"Just no, I don't want to go out with her, not my type, next."

"Milena."

"Who?"

"She goes by Rosa."

"Don't know her, don't want her, next."

"Victoria."

"She's in TNA."

"No, Alicia, do you really just not know anyone's name?" I ask him.

"Not the people I don't really interact with. Besides, I think she's dating someone, I've seen her with a guy and I think she was with him, next."

"Picky, Eve?"

"She's nice, but again, dating someone."

"Jillian?"

"No, the voice, just...no."

"Melina?"

"She's with John."

"Oh yeah, I remember her crying when she got drafted to SmackDown, thinking they'd be separated."

"And see, drama queen, do not want to deal with that."

"Yes, because you're so drama-free...Taryn."

"Again, don't know her."

"Why do you necessarily want someone you know? She works for the company and I don't know, maybe you'd want someone you don't know," I'm fishing for information here. He never really talks about his type because I don't think he has one, he just has preferences, but I try to find out what I can, when I can.

"I want to be with someone I'm familiar with, sue me, go on. I know there are more."

"Gail."

"You know, she is awesome, but again, not my type, any others."

"Maryse?"

"Too French, next."

"Too French, that's your excuse?"

"Hey, when I grew up and I went to the French-speaking provinces, they were jerks, I couldn't stand them, Maryse is from one, therefore, no."

"Okay, Katie?"

"Oh, she is so hot, but she's taken too, damn, why are all the good ones taken?"

"Not all of them are." I'm hinting now.

"Yes, they are, any more?"

"Layla."

"Nah."

"Mickie?"

"Have you seen those shoots of her before she entered the WWE, no thank you," he said, shaking his head vigorously.

"Okay, well, there's Barbie, that's the last of the divas, so...Barbie?"

"I prefer girls who don't pee in sinks, thanks, and ones that have brains."

"Pee in sinks?"

"You didn't see _that_ picture, okay, I'm showing you when I get home."

"Isn't there a picture of you and her kissing floating around?" I ask. I've never actually brought up the picture. I guess I just wanted it out of my consciousness. If he wanted his lips on that, well, he wanted his lips on that.

"Oh God, yes, that's what happens when you challenge someone who can actually _hold _their liquor. Never again, never, never again. Never again. So I guess that's it, huh? Damn, there is not one worthy woman on the entire roster. Oh well, I guess it's sticking with the single life since there isn't a single woman who I'd want to be with on the roster. What a shame, not a single one." Except I think there is just one.

Me.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you all again for the reviews, they mean so much to me and really help me want to write this story, so please, please keep them coming, they all put a smile on my face and I love hearing about where everyone thinks the story is going. I hope you enjoy the chapter and leave a review, thanks! :)

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I guess I'm thankful that Chris hasn't been able to sustain a relationship for more than a few months since I've known him. The longest was this girl in high school. She was nice enough, of course, I didn't really like her, but that's because I liked Chris. It's hard to like someone who is dating the person you love, trust me, if anyone would know, I would. She was nice to me and she didn't treat me like a stupid little kid. If I met her today, knowing she had no designs on Chris, I think we could actually be friends. They dated for a couple years, but in high school, relationships are so different than they are now. What they had, though long, was not serious, not like a serious business relationship that every relationship at my age tends to be.

When you start dating someone now it's like those thoughts of "Is this the one?" creep into your head, almost involuntarily. They call it settling down, but I call it ultimate pressure. I see friends I've known since grade school getting married, having kids and I'm still living with the guy who fails to notice me and thinks of me as a sister. They have stability, I have uncertainty. My problem is whenever I'm with someone, they're never Chris and that's the problem, my other problem is, every girl Chris is with, I have to worry if that is indeed his "one."

I think I'm his one, don't get me wrong, but I'm not so delusional enough to think that he won't find someone he loves and will just leave me in the dust, not realizing that I'm probably better because he doesn't see me the way that I want him to see me. It could happen and whenever he says that there's someone new that fear develops in the pit of my stomach. What if this is the one that lasts more than a week or two, what if it lasts more than a month? What if this is the one that lasts forever and I'm stuck being a bridesmaid at the wedding, a godmother to his kids, a nothing to his something?

Right now, I've got nothing to worry about. Chris is so busy, he doesn't really have time for a girlfriend. He's always off doing something. Sometimes he doesn't even come home when we get time off. I have to admit, it's lonely around the house when he's not around. He keeps telling me to get a dog, but if we're barely home as it is, a dog isn't going to do much good. He puts too much on his plate sometimes, I think, but he'll never listen to me. Chris is just the kind of person that wants a million projects going on at once. I have my work and then my charity work, but Chris has so much more than that.

He's out on a date right now, but I'm not too worried. Maybe I should worry, but I'm kind of not. It's a first date, usually these are a disaster so I'm hoping this one was no different. In fact, I hear the front door opening and a moment later, he's in the living room, throwing his wallet on the coffee table and collapsing on the couch next to me. He unbuckles his belt and pants, wanting to be comfortable and then closes his eyes.

"I am never letting my mother set me up on a date again!"

"Says the guy who has gone out with at least five different women his mommy has set him up with," I tell him.

"Shut up, Scout," he says, shoving me half-heartedly in the shoulder. "I look at these like a personal favor to my mother and nothing else. She obviously doesn't know my type."

"I thought your type was female and…female," I tell him.

"Well, that is a plus," he laughs, "but I think I need a little more substance than that. Why do I let my mom do that? Why do I let her talk me into these things?"

"Because she doesn't have grandchildren to spoil and she wants some," I tell him.

"Oh yeah, that little thing. She really should have had more children so she could've gotten on that grandparent train if that's what she wanted," Chris said.

"Yeah, that little thing," I said, rolling my eyes as I went back to watching the program on TV. Chris groaned and moaned and pretty much was telling me he wasn't done talking to me but I had stopped paying attention to him. Sometimes, I swear he is the neediest man on the planet and it's a wonder why I feel for him as I do. Trust me, as many times as I've thought, 'wow, I love this guy,' I've also thought, 'wow, why _do_ I love this guy?' If I don't pay attention to him, he's going to start clearing his throat until I talk to him. "Okay, what?"

"You didn't even ask why it was a bad date."

"I don't really care," I tell him and I really don't. I don't need to know what he does on his dates.

"Well, as my best friend--"

"One of," I correct him.

"But Shane doesn't live with me, you do," Chris said, turning on his side so he can face me better. "Anyways, she tells me she has like fifteen cats and I'm like, no, no, no, in my head though, I'm not rude. I don't like cats so I'm not dating someone with like fifteen."

"Fifteen is Chris speak for how many?" I ask. He has a way of exaggerating things.

"Four," he grumbles, I know him too well and sometimes he hates it. I hate it when he knows me so well, except for that huge chunk of me that he never sees and never will see because I'm a coward and he's blind.

"Four's not so bad," I tell him, imagining having four cats. I don't think I could handle so many pets, even ones as independent as cats can be.

"I don't like them, so from then on, it was all downhill because she kept bringing up the cats. I didn't want to interrupt her cat lady ways. No wonder she was still single. Only my mom, man, only my mom."

"Your mom is great."

"I know, she just doesn't know how to pick a woman, which is fine. I guess it's just single life for me right now since there is nobody worthy in our company, isn't that sad, Scout, surrounded by beautiful girls and not a single one does anything for me?" Chris says with a sigh, one of his exaggerated ones.

"Do any of the guys?" I tease.

"Very funny, but now that you mention it," he teases back. "just kidding, none of the guys strike my fancy either. Too bad too, some gorgeous guys I work with."

"Oh yes," I say sarcastically. "Try being hit on every one of them multiple times, then come talk to me about gorgeous guys."

"You're picky," he tells me.

"You're pickier," I tell him back. He smiles and nods cheesily. I love that cheesy smile. Most people love when he smirks or when he just genuinely smiles and those are great, I'll admit it, but it's the goofy smile I love the most. When we were little, I got the goofy smile directed at me a lot. We'd be playing something like tag or hide and seek and he would pop out from behind a couch or something and there'd be that cheesy grin, full of laughter and joy. Seeing it now takes me back to those times, how young and carefree and not in love with Chris I was back then. He's got more teeth now though, only difference, besides the occasional bout of facial hair when he gets bored and decides to grow it out.

"I am picky, but if I'm going to spend a lot of time with one person, I want to make sure I can stand them for more than five seconds and I haven't found that yet."

He could have that if he looked at me and really saw me. We've spent much more than five seconds together. We've got a lifetime of memories between us, but I just never speak up. "Neither have I."

"Pathetic," he says with a laugh and closes his eyes again. "I could set you up with someone."

"No thanks, I don't like who you set me up with." I don't, but not for the reasons he thinks. "You know," I say, deciding to gauge something. If I ask him about us in a joking manner, maybe he'll answer seriously, or at least to a point where I can get a feel for what he really thinks of me, if he thinks of me beyond friendship, if there could be a spark, "I'm a little hurt."

"What? Did you fall down the stairs?" he kids and then he sticks his tongue at me even though his eyes are still closed. I guess he figures a stuck out tongue in my general direction will work.

"No, when you were running down the list of potential WWE girlfriends…my name didn't come up."

"Excuse me?" he said, opening his eyes and looking at me.

"I mean, you didn't even think of me, did you?" I point out. He's actually sitting up and staring at me. "You didn't give an opinion on what dating me might be like."

He stares at me for a moment and I stare back at him, unabashedly, hoping that he'll see, that he will finally see that I'm being totally serious and not joking and not the Scout that he's known forever. A moment after I think that he starts laughing and when I say laughing, I mean cracking up, side-splitting, tears-from-your-eyes, laughing and I feel like my stomach is dropping down to the basement, if we had a basement, maybe it's just completely in the ground.

"You and me?" he guffaws, yes guffaws and who even guffaws anymore?

"I'm just saying," I try to remain nonchalant and not let out how hurt this is actually making me feel. I want to sink into the floor right now. "I was just saying."

"Scout, you and me, date, you and me on a date, no way, no, no, no way, that would be so weird, oh my God, you're the best, I swear, you always know how to make me feel better," he laughs, holding his stomach. "Can you even imagine? Wow, that would be the strangest thing ever, you and me, I mean, come on, we've known each other forever, I've taken baths with you!"

"I was three and you were five and you were staying over at our house because your mom went on the road with your dad and my mom didn't want to waste time helping three kids take their baths, okay," I tell him because it's the truth, it's not like I wanted to take a bath with him.

"Still, we've taken baths together."

"Shane was also in the tub, you want me to spread it around you bathed with Shane?" I counter.

"Wow, that'd be bad," Chris laughs. "You know, your mom still brings up that story about how I saw you and I blurted out that you were definitely a girl. That's really embarrassing, you know, remind me never to bring over a girl to meet your mom."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," I say, shaking my head. "It's not like we've bathed together recently."

"It'd save us on the water bill," he winks at me and he shouldn't put pictures of his naked self into my head because inevitably naked images of _myself_ will enter into my head and hell if those two naked images will stay apart. I wonder if he'd even like my body, it has been quite a number of years since that day when he was little and declared I was definitely a girl because I didn't have the same parts as he did. Up until that point, maybe he thought I was a boy in disguise because I was such a tomboy. I'm a little self-conscious about my body, that would explain the breast implants I got, then reduced because they were too big. At least Chris had the decency then to tell me that I looked beautiful with or without them. He's not oblivious all the time, I swear.

"Yeah, right," I say, still feeling a little stung about the laughing. "I don't think the idea of us is that preposterous, you know, we _do_ live together."

"Because your parents are paranoid freaks," he tells me, "not that I don't want you here, it'd be lonely without you, of course, if you weren't here, I wouldn't have to explain to any potential girlfriends why I have a female living here, but that's only what, 5 minutes out of my life, I think I can deal."

"Still, I was just saying, it's not like I want to be with you." I'm trying to save face now, just appear like you were curious, just appear like you were joking, just appear like you weren't putting yourself out there and the man of your dreams shot you down with a laugh and a guffaw (seriously, he guffawed).

"Why would you? You know me too well. You cannot possibly look at me, after knowing me for 29 years, after having seen me in every gross, disgusting, embarrassing position I've been in and still want me. It'd be weird to boot, I mean, you and me," he starts laughing again, I want to throttle him. "You and me, man, that'd be so weird. I love you, Steph, but come on, you and me. Thanks for the laugh though. I needed that after my disaster of a date. What's on TV?"

He picks up the remote and starts to flip channels as I sit there, watching him watching TV, not saying a word. I guess I know what his thoughts on a relationship would be. Can't say I didn't expect it, but it still hurts to know that he'll never see me the way I see him. I guess it's all just pipe dreams and I have to find second best out there somewhere because first best sees me as the little sister he never had. Maybe that's the problem, he's always seen me as little sister and now that I'm grown, now that I'm not a little girl with a bowl haircut and overalls, he still sees me as that little girl.

He may be laughing, but I'm not.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews guys, you are the best! I really love each and every review that I get, they really help to motivate me to write and as most of you know, I have a ton of stories going on so the more reviews, the more I want to write and update everything! Anyways, I'm not totally in love with this chapter and I'm not quite sure why, but I still hope it came out okay. Reviews are very much appreciated, thanks, enjoy. :)

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I hate when I look at him and know that he's not looking at me in the same way. Sometimes, I catch myself looking at him and just staring at him, not creepily mind you, I try not to be creepy, but I just study him, try to figure out what it is that I love so much about him and whether, if he ever leaves, I can figure out what I loved and find it in someone else. I sometimes wonder if we're going to end up old and single and if he'll then say, "Well, you know what, it's been all these years, let's just be together," but our lives would've already passed by.

I don't want to be one of those people who has a pact with their friends, you know the ones, where if they turn a certain age they'll just end up together. I can see Chris bringing that up jokingly and if he ever seriously offered, I know I would agree in a heartbeat even though it's not what I want. I'm used to getting what I want, but the one thing I've always wanted has eluded me time and time again and so I'm stuck here in my cowardice watching him as he talks with some of our coworkers.

It's not like I'm not friends with people around here, I am. I do consider a lot of these people friends, but not like Chris does. I guess when you're the boss's daughter there _has_ to be some kind of separation between me and them. Chris just gets along with everyone. He likes some more than others, but he doesn't really hate anyone, not even Paul, who for some reason or another doesn't like Chris. He's never confided in me because it's plain to see that Chris and I are very close.

He's talking with some people right now. It's after a big show, Pay-Per-View, and everyone is gathering together at one of those local clubs to party and drink and celebrate a great show. I always feel so out of place, even though at least five people always tell me that I have to come and mean it when they say it. Then there are those who say it because they hope to get me drunk and in bed. I don't know what they think that would accomplish besides me thinking they're huge creeps the next day and then booking them into something stupid because they pretty much used me. Do they think that because I sleep with someone I'm going to say poof and make them main event? I'm not the easy.

"Hey, Steph, why are you never the life of the party?"

I look over my shoulder at Jay and laugh, "I'm never the life of the party because I never really want to be here."

"And yet, here you are," he tells me and grabs my hand.

"Jay, what are you doing?" I ask him, tilting my head and raising my eyebrow at his antics.

"I'm asking you to dance," he says sweetly. Jay is one of the best guys around here. He's just like Chris in that they are pretty much friends with everyone. If I didn't love Chris, I might just fall in love with Jay, despite the fact he is very much off-the-market.

"I don't want to dance," I tell him, trying to put up my last line of defense, but he's pulling me out there and I know I'm going to have no choice but to dance with him.

"You know, you're very obvious," he tells me as he grabs me by the waist and pulls me towards him. I hit his body with an "oof" and a grunt and look up at him to figure out what he means by that and just by looking at him, I can tell exactly what he's talking about and I'm glad there's a dark room around me because my blush isn't so evident.

"I'm not obvious," I tell him, trying to save face, but it won't work.

"Yeah, right," Jay scoffs. "You are incredibly obvious to anyone who knows you, wait, no, that's the problem, isn't it? Actually, I think you're completely not obvious to anyone except me."

"Why are you staring at me?" I ask him playfully.

"Because I think you're gorgeous," he tells me in the same playful tone I used with him.

"Then Denise is going to be pissed."

"Yeah, because she's never seen a gorgeous woman before," Jay laughs and I laugh along with him. "I'm not here to tease you or anything about it, just wonder, the same as you, when that guy is going to get his act together."

"Act together?"

"Oh, come on, the guy has known you for how many years?"

"About 29," I answer.

"Yeah, geez, 29 years and he thinks he knows you except he's too damn oblivious to notice that he's got a great girl who wants him and then he comes to me and complains about not having a girlfriend, then he goes to Adam and complains, then whoever else will listen, then he probably goes to his other friends he knows outside of wrestling and complains to them…please don't tell me he complains to you…"

"He made me go over the divas roster to see if there were any with girlfriend material."

He takes one of his hands off my waist and slaps himself in the forehead, like he can't believe how stupid Chris is. I tend to agree with him, Chris can be very stupid, but he just…after he guffawed at me and laughed in my face over the prospect of us together, I think I see his point. I guess there's so much history between us that nothing left is a surprise, or so he thinks. I think that it would be great to be together _because_ there'd be none of that awkwardness, but I suppose he thinks it would make it extra awkward because there would be no secrets between the both of us.

Chris just doesn't see that we could be good together and I can't make him see what he doesn't want to see. I can't suddenly uncover his eyes and yell surprise and have the truth smack him in the face once he opens them. Chris likes surprises, but I'm not sure he would like this one so I skulk around in the shadows, letting him think of me as the little sister he never had when I think of him as the boyfriend, lover, husband, that he'll never be.

"Are you kidding me? I should go over there and shake him until he sees."

"I appreciate that," I tell him, "but I don't want you to, if Chris and I are ever going to happen, I think that it has to be because Chris wants it. Lord knows I do, Lord knows I've been waiting for it since I was like 10, of course, back then, I wanted him to invite me for a soda and now it's different, but still. I can't force him to see what I feel for him."

"I know, I know," he says and he drops it then.

"Thanks for not making fun of me," I do tell him because it would be so easy. I can see some of the cattier divas (I won't name names, but they know who they are) making fun of me for it and then trying to go stick their tongues down Chris's throat just to show off that they can get him and I can't.

"I would never make fun of you over this, some of the other things I've seen, yeah, but this, nah," he jokes and I'm glad I have someone who can make me feel at ease. Jay is one of the only people who I trust with good intentions and I'm so glad he decided to come back because I missed that about him. Wrestling is just so fickle.

"Hey, can I cut in?"

I look over and see Paul standing there and I sigh, this is the last thing I need. He probably thinks that just because we're pretend married he gets dibs on me or something. Jay, ever my savior responds, "Nope, she's mine for the evening."

"Okay," Paul says slowly and walks away, looking suspicious.

"Thanks for making it look like I'm going to sleep with you tonight."

"Better he thinks that I'm going to sleep with you than that he's going to sleep with you," Jay responds and he's right. The song ends soon after and Jay escorts me back to the bar and I search the crowd for Chris, but he's nowhere to be found so I just take a seat and order another drink. This will be my last for the night. I don't need to be stumbling drunk when I've got work tomorrow.

I'm reminded of the first time I ever got drunk. I didn't mean to, but I'd been at a party and someone had brought a keg and I'd been persuaded to drink and then ended up having a few too many. I called Chris that night because I knew he was in town for the weekend and could come help me because my friends were all drunk as well and I didn't trust any of them to drive. Chris came and got me and drove me home, scolding me the entire time that I could've been taken advantage of if I'd had more to drink.

I embarrassed myself that night, he later told me, when I said that I wanted him to take advantage of me and then tried to grab at his collar. He laughed about that now, but that's one of the other reasons I don't get drunk, I get talkative and then, if I say something like that now, if I confess something like that, maybe he'll link it back to the past and what I did that night, what I said and he'll know and that's the last way I want him to find out. If I'm drunk, I'll tell and if I tell, it'll be over.

I really don't want it to be over.

I can't handle the rejection.

I spot Chris across the room talking with Jay and for a moment I'm scared that Jay will spill my secret. But then he points to me and Chris nods and pats him on the shoulder before Chris bullies his way through the crowd to get to me. He's about three-quarters of the way here before some random girl comes up to him, holding a drink in one hand, a smile on her face and her boobs almost popping out of her shirt. Chris stops for a moment and looks down and I know that the girl is starting off with, "I'm such a huge fan of yours!" when she probably only vaguely knows who he is but knows there are a bunch of wrestlers in the building and wants to snag one and Chris is the most good-looking guy here most of the time anyways. He'll follow that up with a very simple question for her and when she doesn't know the answer, he'll nod, laugh, then walk away and come over to talk to me…

"She couldn't even tell me what my finishing move was, she said it was the Code-checker, Code-checker," Chris says, shaking his head. "Can you believe that?"

"Better than that one time you asked and they said that your finisher was the Pedigree."

"Don't even remind me of that situation," Chris shudders. That time, the girl had thought he was Paul and Chris's face had never been so red before. It took everything in him not to go on a rampage and destroy the restaurant we were in.

"Sorry."

"I just saw you dancing with Jay, hoping you were having a great time."

"I am now," I tell him, leaving him a little hint. He doesn't get it of course and just sits next to me, casually putting his arm around my shoulder. "So are you checking out any girls here?" It's not like I'm going to sabotage anything or shove them into a bathroom stall and lock them in or anything, I just want to know what I might have to be dealing with, steeling myself if you will. If I have to see any of these girls tomorrow morning, I want to be prepared for it.

"Nah, not a single girl I want to go home with, except you of course since I actually do live with you and kind of have to go home with you," he says, kissing my temple. "Oh no, now everyone is going to think we're dating, there goes all the prospects I might have had."

I look down, "Yeah, such a shame."

"Not like anyone was worth my time. So I saw Paul go up to you while you were with Jay, what did he want?"

"To dance."

"Typical," Chris said. "The guy never lets up. I think someone needs to smack it into his brain that just because you two are married onscreen doesn't mean that you are really married offscreen."

"I know, but who would take on that job?" I tease.

"I will!"

"Hey, Chris," Barbie said, coming up to Chris. Chris widens his eyes and leans a little closer to me, obviously trying to make it seem like he's really occupied with me when he really just doesn't want to be around Barbie.

"Hello," he says curtly. He's been guarded around her since that kissing incident. Now that I know she pretty much sidled up to him, I find myself loathing this little blonde bimbo more and more with each passing second.

"You had a great match tonight, maybe sometime you could help me with my moves."

"And maybe some other time, you can show me the art of peeing in a sink," Chris told her and it's my turn to guffaw at him. I've never seen him so callous towards someone before. Sure, when he's around Paul it's all animosity, all the time, but just out and out rude like this, never seen, but can't say I don't like it. I look up at him, a grin on my face as he just stares at Barbie like he wants her to leave. She does, with a huff and a flip of her hair.

"You're brilliant."

"Thanks, Scout," Chris said, "but I do not want that piece of slime ever touching me again. One time was bad enough and to think someone got a picture of it, God, I'm scarred for life."

I hug him, it's an impulsive reaction, but he hugs me back. "You're the best, you know that."

"Of course I know that."

I pull away and for a moment, I think about kissing him, just kissing him and seeing where it takes us. He's not drunk and neither am I, but maybe the heady rush of the music and the warmth and press of all the bodies around us will make us do something that neither of us will forget and that hopefully he wouldn't regret. There's nothing between us now but the inches between my lips and his and I'm so tempted to just close the gap, say to hell with this waiting and pining and going for it, going for all of it.

But I can't…I just can't…

And I hate myself for it.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, everyone, you all are so awesome and I'm glad you're liking (or getting frustrated) with this story. Hopefully this chapter is just as good as the rest and reviews would be lovely, thanks, and enjoy. :)

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"What are you going to get?"

"I'm not sure."

I look up at the board and try to decide what I want. Everything looks good, but I'm just not sure what I want so I keep staring. Chris leans beside me and then puts his chin on my shoulder and looks up as well. "I think fifteen people have ordered since we've gotten here, Scout."

"I just don't know what I want," I tell him. Also his face is very close to mine and that's going to make it even harder to concentrate. I take a deep breath and hope that he moves so I can decide what I want. "Chris, can you move, please?"

"What, do I have bad breath?" he jokes.

"No, you don't," I say, "but you're making it obviously hard to concentrate when you're _right_ there, in my face, while I'm trying to decide what to order."

"I'm just trying to help you along," he responds and it's not so much that I can see his smile, but I can hear it. You know, that voice someone gets when they're smiling, it's just more upbeat in tone. It's Chris, too, and I like to think I know most of his voices, I say most because I know there's a few voices that I haven't heard and want desperately to hear.

"Yeah, but you're distracting me."

"What, Steph, because of my stellar good looks and sparkling personality, do you want me, Stephanie Marie McMahon? Do you want me to just take you?"

I know he's joking, but damned if my breath doesn't catch a little and I'm finding it hard to breathe. This is one of those voices that I've never heard and yet, here it is, right now and I'm so shocked by it, I don't think I can breathe. I'm tense too, I can feel the tension in my shoulders and I'm frozen. Forget what I want to eat, does Chris know something, _anything_? Does he suspect, is this more than joking, is he trying to gauge what I might think? Maybe he actually does have feelings for me and he's been pretending he doesn't and he wants to know what I would think. Rule number one, do _not_ guffaw in his face!

"And if I said I did?" I say, figuring that's the best answer in this situation. It's not an outright denial, but it's not an affirmation.

"Well then I'd say forget the food and let's go back home," he tells me, then laughs and pulls away. He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. "Why are you so tense, Steph, come on, lighten up, I'm just joking, you don't have to act like the prospect of being with me is odd. I will gather up all the women I've ever been with and they will tell you how good I am."

"I'm not tense," I tell him, but my shoulders are still hunched around my neck and I probably look like a turtle or that I have no neck or something. "I'm just not sure what I want to eat, that's all. I know you were joking."

"Well, yeah, because the sex between us would be super weird, all weird limbs and I don't know, I don't think I'd want you to see my naked. You'd probably see my gangly, 14 year old self if I did. It'd be like war flashbacks, you'd be like, 'Oh my God, put your clothes back on!' and then I would never be able to be with a woman again?"

"I doubt it would be that traumatic." I don't think it would be traumatic at all, more like amazing. I know Chris is not that 14 year old anymore and if I saw him naked, I think I would be more appreciative than horrified. "Okay, I know what I want."

"Me, right, it's me."

"Stop it," I push him away a little as we finally step up to the counter. I order my tacos and Chris orders his enchiladas and then comes to the time to decide whether we want to eat here or eat at home. "Do you want to eat at home?"

"You ashamed to be seen with me?" he jokes. "I thought we could eat here."

"But at home we can watch TV," I tell him and we would be away from all the fans that will come up to us. It's not like I don't like meeting the fans and for the most part, they can separate my character from my person and treat me very nicely, but it's a different story when a fan comes up to you while you have sour cream on your lips or something or with your mouth stuffed with food. Then it just becomes embarrassing.

"But here we can sit down at a table and act like adults."

"Do you guys want it here or to go?" the cashier asks, obviously nonplussed by our witty (or not so witty) banter. He just wants the sale and I look behind us to see people waiting impatiently.

"Here," I say, giving in and Chris grins and nods like he's just won the biggest argument in the world although we argue all the time like this, over stupid, little things. I pay (Chris conveniently "forgot" his wallet) and we grab our number and sit down at a table. We sit in silence for a while, looking around and eating the chips we'd gotten and then he just smiles at me. "What?"

"Nothing, I just love when you give in to me," Chris shrugs. "I always get my way when it comes to you. Ever since we were kids, you always wanted to please me."

"Shut up," I feel my cheeks burning with a blush and that just makes him smile more.

"So you're sure you don't want to come to the party tomorrow?"

"I'm sure," I answer. There's a party after the show tomorrow night. We're heading to Madison Square Garden and there's going to be an unofficial WWE party at some club. I'm just not much of the party person, but Chris is. We just went to a party at a club the week before and I don't feel like going to another one. I know people, Chris included, are going to try to drag me there, but I'm just not in the mood to party again.

"Why not?"

"Chris, you know me."

"Scout, come on, I'm going to be there."

"I know you'll be there, but I just went to a party last week. I can't do the whole partying all the time thing."

"It's been over a week, well, it _will_ be over a week since we last went to a party. That is definitely ample time between parties, in fact, it might not be _enough_ time between parties, wait, no, scratch that, that will make you definitely not want to go. Come on, Steph."

"You're not talking me into it this time," I tell him. "I just don't want to."

"Fine, I'll drop it for now, but I'm going to wear you down," Chris told her as he grabs a chip and chomps on it emphatically for emphasis, like that's going to make me change my mind. As he's chewing, a fan comes up. I use the term fan loosely as it's a girl and she's looking at Chris like he's a piece of cheese and she's a starving mouse. I just look away. This kind of thing just happens all the time.

"You're Chris Jericho."

"And you're a woman I don't know," he tells her. He wants to be rude, but he doesn't want people to think he's a bad guy.

"Can I have your autograph?" she asks. "And maybe your number?"

"You can have the autograph, got paper?" he asks.

"Oh," she looks disappointed and I'm smug now. He gives her the autograph and sends her on her way.

"Why do people do that?" he asks and I wonder what he's asking about. I raise an eyebrow in question. "They come up to me when I'm with you and do that. How come they don't think we're together?"

"Because we're not."

"I'm just saying, you would think they'd have the common courtesy not to hit on me when I'm in front of another woman with whom they don't know the relationship, it's just rude, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I mean, but it happens," I tell him, wondering what has suddenly got him in so bad a mood. He's never really said anything like this before. Usually it doesn't bother him when someone, even a girl, comes up to him and talks to him or hits on him. He usually smiles, flirts a little, then leaves the girl happy. This was not like him at all.

"Well they need to learn not to do that when I'm with someone."

"Okay, Jem, what's up?" I ask. I only call him Jem when something is wrong. He likes it when I call him that so I usually save it for special occasions. I think it's kind of a dumb name and a dumb, kitschy thing to do.

"Nothing," he tells me, but this uncomfortable silence tells me otherwise. Not to mention the fact that I think if he could, he'd be warming up the salsa with his laser eyes.

"Lie, come on tell me the truth, you're not usually this cantankerous, old man when we go out, especially not when we get good food, so spill."

"It just bugs me, that's all."

"Why the sudden change then? People probably come over and see Chris Irvine with Stephanie McMahon or rather they see Chris _Jericho_ with Stephanie McMahon and they start to think of us as our characters and our characters would never be together, right?"

"No excuse," Chris says, shaking his head. I don't lead myself to believe that this has anything to do with liking me. He's just in one of his moods and he'll eventually crack. I know this probably doesn't deal with me so I'm not getting my hopes up. Years and years of hopes getting put up only to have them shot down, not doing that this time.

"Seriously, Chris, what's going on?"

"Why won't you go to the party with me?" he asks and I scoff. _That's_ what he's all bent out of shape about? I swear, sometimes he's more sensitive than a four year old kid on the verge of a tantrum. He gets in his head these small issues and then blows them up into bigger issues.

"It's not that I don't want to go with you, it's that I don't want to go."

"But it will be fun."

"I'm sure it will be, I just don't feel like going."

"Please."

"Chris."

"Please?" he pouts.

"Chris, I'm not going to go, you're not going to make me go and you're not going to drag me there. I'll probably have work to do as it is. I think sometimes you forget that I'm actually the head of creative. You still see me as that little girl that I was and not someone with real responsibilities."

"I do see that, which is why I want you to come party with me, because I fear that you are lonely, I don't want you to be lonely."

"I won't be lonely, I promise."

"You work too much."

"Tell that to my dad, he doesn't think I work enough," I say. "But you know that already since whenever you come over to dinner, you hear it too, then my dad starts in on you and how you should be the World Champion already and why don't you just accept that you're practically his son."

"And that's what gets me so much love from the other wrestlers and why Paul hates me."

"You don't know why Paul hates you."

"Oh come on, Steph, we both know it is."

"Okay, slightly, maybe," I tell him. "But I'm willing to give that douchebag the benefit of the doubt, just this once."

"So come to the party."

"How did we get back on that?"

"So you don't have to think about that douchebag," he repeated.

"You're going to have to fly solo on this one, Chris, don't worry, you'll have a great time and you have a million friends and you'll have fun so don't worry about me. I'll go to the next one or something, now is that all you're upset about or is there something else?"

"No, nothing else," Chris says, but I don't know if that's true, but our food is coming and we have to focus on eating. At least I got out of the party though, that's a win for me. A few more minutes of him begging and I would've given in. I want a quiet night tomorrow and being pushed and groped and shoved in a dark, dirty place is not my idea of a quiet night. Chris will have fun though, he usually ends up the life of the party anyways. He's never without a shortage of people with him and around him, wanting to joke with him.

I think that's always been our dynamic. Chris is the one who's out there, the one who just goes up to a person and five minutes later, that person is considered a friend. He has that kind of magnetic personality, where a smile is like a present. I've always been the one that's more reserved, hanging back, not drawing too much attention to myself. When I do get the attention, it's because Chris had dragged me into it. I think he could tell me to walk into the ocean and drown and I just might. He's just a people person. He always has been.

That's why when he comes to my room the morning after the party and he looks like he was up all night, I'm not concerned. He probably _was_ up all night, being the night owl he is. I don't know how he functions with the amount of sleep he gets, but he manages to. He was probably being the life of the party all night, keeping it going until closing and then wanting more and staying buzzed and just being Chris all night. Then he looks up at me and it's different, it's not Chris.

"I did something stupid."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, everyone, sorry to have kept you in suspense for so long and maybe longer, who knows. Anyways, I hope you like this chapter, I enjoyed writing it and I hope you're enjoying the direction. If you want, leave a review, those are always extremely helpful and make me smile (or frown if you don't like me :P) but yes, enjoy, I hope. :)

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At first, I think he must be joking with me. He does that all the time, pretends to be sad when he really just wants to grab me and tickle me into submission, pretends to be hurt so I'll come over to check on him and then he grabs me and puts me in a headlock. He does these kinds of things because he _thinks_ they're funny, but they're not, they're childish, which I guess is a little like Chris in general. He has a good heart, it's just he act s like a child. But then I look at his face and he doesn't have that particular sparkle in his eyes.

"What do you mean something stupid?" I ask, my voice slow, hesitating because I'm not sure what's going to be on the other end of this answer. There are a lot of stupid things in this world.

"Well, I'm not totally sure," he says, sinking onto the couch in my sitting area. He doesn't seem satisfied with the comfort of it as he shifts around a bit. When he finds a spot to rest in, he sighs and leans his head against the back of it, looking up at me like a scared puppy.

"Not totally sure, so how do you know you did something stupid if you're not totally sure what you did?" I haven't moved and I'm not sure why I haven't moved, but I don't feel like sitting on the couch with him. I know he wants me to, that's why he has that look on his face. He wants me to sit with him and then he wants to lean his head on my shoulder and spill all his problems. I don't know why this particular time my feet are rooted to the ground, like I'm stuck in quicksand.

"I just think that I did, I'm not 100 percent positive, but it's a good feeling that I have that I did something really stupid," he tells me, his chin falling to his chest. He's amping up the look now, really wanting me to go over to him, but I'm still standing here, my arms folded right under my breasts.

"So what was it that you think you did then?" My voice almost doesn't sound like my own. It sounds more like my voice when I'm in the ring and pretending to be this dominant female character that I'm not quite in real life. My character would've told Chris a long time ago that I had feelings for him. Hell, she probably would've told him the first night of her attraction, which I guess would be our first scene. Yes, she would've done what I couldn't do.

"I don't know--"

"You've said that already," I interrupt him and he's looking at me like he's never seen me before and I can't really even explain to myself what I'm doing. I've always been pretty sympathetic to other people, sometimes too much so. I've gone to bat for people that probably didn't deserve it because I'm too sympathetic.

"I just, wow," he says, muttering a tiny bit under his breath. "You know, never-mind, I'm just going to head down to breakfast."

I've upset him and now he's going to sulk like a little baby. I don't know why I'm feeling so cantankerous this morning. Maybe I woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. I just don't want to hear whatever it is he has to say this morning and I know I'm putting him out, but a part of me doesn't care. Then the other part, the one that is the real me is cursing at my other half wondering how I could be so cruel to my best friend and the man I've been in love with before I grew boobs. I want to stop him and he wants me to stop him. He's slowly rising off the couch, but his eyes are trained on me, just looking at me as his body lifts up, first his butt, then, his legs and he's crouching, then standing up slowly.

"Is something wrong?" he asks and for some reason, he's looking to my bedroom. Then he looks at me again and he asks me, "Is there someone else here?"

I want to yell at him that there is (there obviously isn't) just so I can see if there's a reaction. Would he guffaw then? Would he laugh at me, tease me? Or would he actually look hurt? Would he be upset? "No, there's nobody else here," I finally tell him. What use would lying be? He'd just go into the other room and search out this other guy and probably throw him out of the room for not having the decency to announce his presence in my life. Either that or he'd sit outside my door until said guy came out so he could glare at him and tell him not to hurt me. It's that big brother complex I hate.

"Okay, so there's nobody else here, so what's wrong? Did something happen? Are you okay?"

I'm not okay, I've not been _okay_ around him for a long time. A big part of me is still hidden from Chris and I think it would kill him to know that. "I'm fine."

"What did you do last night?"

Now the questions are on me, "I just came back here, read for a while, then I went to bed and now I'm awake."

"Did I wake you?" he asks.

"No, you didn't, I was pretty much awake."

"Something's wrong."

_Everything's _wrong! "Nothing's wrong," I lie. Lying is so easy, you know, when you think about it. If you believe in the lie, or at least convince yourself that others will believe it, you can get away with anything. It's all in keeping yourself relaxed. You just say it, say it like you mean and don't tense, don't give a tell and lying is just another day at the office.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"So I guess I will get going then."

I'm breaking, I can feel it. I can't just stand here and let him walk out, all dejected and sad. I can't do it. I live with the guy so it's not like I can take an extended vacation from his face. If I don't listen to him now, I'll have to go home and see him and hear him sigh in that way where you know he has something to say, but I won't let him say it so he just sighs, this deep, heaving sigh, with a sad, little moan at the end. He'll sit there, on a barstool as I make coffee and watch me and sigh and sigh and sigh until I want to throw coffee in his face, but I know how unhappy all his Jerichoholics would be if I scarred his face with scalding hot coffee.

"What's wrong?" I ask, rolling my eyes slightly and he looks relieved that I actually asked and he sits down again.

"So I get up this morning and I'm naked and the bed is empty beside me and there's nobody in my room. Now, I did have a little too much to drink last night, though I didn't get a hangover this morning because I think I must've taken some Tylenol or something before bed. I mean, I'm tired, but not too tired and I'm a little dizzy, but not _too_ dizzy."

"I get it, you're okay, so you were naked," I prod, but I really don't want to picture that. Okay, so I picture it all the time, but I don't want to do it right now. Not when I'm feeling very apathetic towards him.

"Yeah, so I thought maybe I just took off all my clothes and fell into bed, but then I found these," he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of neon blue panties, a thong to be exact. I think I may puke seeing those, yes, I think I'm actually about to dry heave.

"What are those?" I ask, though I know and he knows I know, but it seems the only appropriate question at the moment.

"They're panties, now, I know what you may think of me sometimes, Scout, but I don't wear thongs," he tries to joke, but I'm not laughing and neither is he. "There was no other indication of anyone else in my room, except these. I don't know what to do. I think I must have slept with someone last night, but I'll be damned if I can remember who. I didn't feel like I was wasted last night, but I must've been."

"You must've been," I say sullenly. So some girl gets to have her way with Chris just because he drinks a little too much and I get to sit around and hear about it after the fact and check out some girl's dirty panties. Oh, this is the life, this is _the_ life.

"I didn't want to bring these with me," he says, balling them up again and shoving them into his pocket. I hope he washes his hands before he leaves. "But I needed to bring the proof. I don't know what I did last night, although I guess I should be thankful they were panties and not briefs, right, you know, because that would be a guy."

"I get what you mean," I tell him. I think he's trying to make me laugh now, just because he doesn't want to see the disappointment at this behavior. "I can't believe you were so irresponsible."

"I know," he says and he has the good sense to be sheepish about it. "I don't know why they would leave though. I mean, I've been told I'm very good in bed so I don't think a woman would want to leave, but if I was inebriated, I probably wasn't up to snuff. There could be some woman out there thinking I can't perform."

"I think that's the least of your worries," I respond. I don't want to hear about his latest conquest.

"I should probably find this girl, right? I should probably seek her out, if not to find out who she is, but to return her underwear, they kind of look expensive."

"I think the word you're going for is trashy," I say and he looks at me and he laughs, but it's not one of his better laughs. It's the kind of laugh that is trying to break up the tension in the room.

"I probably should've gone to Shane about this, I mean, he's had one night…you probably didn't want to hear that about your brother, huh?" he says and he's just made it even more awkward. I didn't think it was possible, but leave it to Chris to raise that bar. "He probably just could've helped."

"Why? Because I'm female."

"Well, you just…do you, I know we discuss our…romantic involvements, but I've just never seen you as the type, probably because I've seen you date and you've never been the type and I've known you for so long and you've never been with a guy that you weren't in a relationship with, but then, in college, you were away and I was away so I don't know, you could have, but…I don't know, have you?"

"You don't think I could?"

"Oh, I think you could," he tells me with a nod. "I just don't think you would. Not you, Scout. I don't know, when I picture you with a guy, I think you like it to be the right moment, you know, that notion that there's a right moment for that kind of thing. I mean, look at you, you're beautiful and any guy would be so lucky to be with you that you'd be worth that wait. So no, I don't think you'd give away for free."

That's the first thing he's said today that has made me soften even the littlest bit. In fact, it softens me up quite a bit and I look at him, just to check if he's being earnest, and you can tell he is. He's told me I was beautiful before, plenty of times, too many for me to count now. Still, his words, the fact that he thinks so highly of my character, that he thinks I deserve to be revered; it all just touches me. I smile at him and he smiles back, probably wondering if this is a trap and if I'm going to start yelling at him for assuming.

"I don't," I confirm for him and I can see him instantly relax. Well that's a funny move. I didn't expect the relaxation so I have to ask, "You seem relieved."

"Well, I don't want guys thinking that you're easy. Then I'd have to go track them down and kick their asses for thinking that." Sometimes Chris doesn't know how what he says affects me and it's for the best really. They're like little gifts I get to hold onto for a while.

"Okay, well, with your situation, first of all, we need to get you tested. You don't know who you slept with or what they might have been carrying," I tell him, the rational part of my brain kicking in. He seems relieved _again_ to hear me taking charge. Chris is definitely a leader, always has been, but more often than not, when things are especially rough, I think he likes to turn to me for the fix. I've never let him down before and I won't this time either.

"That's smart, I didn't think of that."

"That's why you have me, Jem," I tell him, using his cheesy nickname, but he's beaming at me. He loves it when I use the nickname back at him, like it's a huge accomplishment. "Then we'll try to find out who this girl is. Do you remember anything about last night?"

"I remember someone was hanging off me, flirting with me. I don't remember if I flirted back. They had a hockey game on TV, it was all very hazy."

"Do you think it was someone in the company?"

"Probably, the majority of people there were."

"Okay, so that narrows it down a bit. We'll get you tested and then we'll try to figure out who this woman is. Maybe do both at the same time."

"I don't want to pursue a relationship with them."

"But I think you'll feel better if you know."

"I could add the notch to the old bedpost."

I groan, "Are you kidding me here? Maybe you _should_ have talked to Shane."

"Yeah, because if anyone has had some one…again, too much information, right?"

"Yes, right," I tell him, rolling my eyes again. Chris gets up and he hugs me around the waist, holding onto me tightly, burying his face in my neck so I can smell his aftershave, which I buy for him because I like the smell. He doesn't have time, he says, to buy silly products like that, but then he uses them just fine when I buy them. It works out for me though because he always smells like I want him to smell.

"You're the best, Scout," he tells him, his lips brushing against my neck, giving my skin that prickly feeling, where it feels like every nerve is standing attention, waiting for some kind of inspection that won't come in the form of his touch. I close my eyes.

"Just do me one favor, okay, Chris."

"Whatever you want."

"Get rid of those panties in your pocket."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews, glad you're liking the story. Hope you like the chapter and if you want to review, go right ahead, enjoy. :)

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"You know, this is actually kind of nerve-wracking."

I look over at him and he's giving his best smile, but I can read him like I can read myself. He's a little nervous and he has every right to be. He had anonymous sex and now he's waiting on the results of his tests. I shake my head inwardly, disappointment no doubt crossing my features. I just don't understand him sometimes. I don't understand why he takes the risks that he does if this is the outcome. They told him they'd have the results by the end of the week and it's Friday now so we're just waiting it out. He was let off the weekend shows so we're just sitting around at home.

The good thing for Chris is that he gets away with things the other wrestlers don't and he knows it. Despite the last name, he might as well be a McMahon, although that would make my crush on him pretty creepy. Still, when he wants a weekend off he just talks to my dad and he gets the weekend off because he's like a third child for my dad. Someday, if I can ever get my act together, I hope to make that kind of official. Or as official as it can be. What I'm trying to say is that one day, I hope to marry Chris. Of course, with the way he lives right now, that seems like a far off prospect.

"Well, it's only your own fault," I tell him and I know I'm acting like a disapproving mother, but I can't help it. I'm still kind of mad at him for doing what he did. "You should've known better, Chris. I mean, you know that when you drink a lot you tend to act stupid."

"I know, I'm sorry," he apologizes and I wonder why he's apologizing to me. He explains it a moment later, "You know I don't like dragging you into things. I was stupid and I'm really sorry for that. Thank you for being here for me."

"Where else would I be? I live here, remember?"

"I know, but," he takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. "You're my best friend. You always understand me, even more than I understand myself sometimes. I'm just really lucky to have you is all."

I looked down at our joined hands and how he's still lightly squeezing it. "Don't mention it."

"No, I don't think you get it," he tells me and for a moment I think he might kiss me, like I've interpreted him all wrong all these years, like he had been harboring something deep and dark for me too and right now, when we're waiting to make sure he's okay, is when he has decided that everything is too short and he has to tell me how he feels. "You're just, you're one of the best things in my life."

"Thank you," I tell him, hoping that I'm prompting him to say more, but he just gives me a crooked smile and that's it.

"You're welcome. I'm really glad that your parents wouldn't let you live alone because it's better that you live with me because I think I would go crazy living here by myself," he says. "I would be bored out of my mind all the time, I'd never have food in the house, I'd probably never shower. It'd be disgusting. I could never have anyone over."

"I'm sure you wouldn't be like that."

"But see, I'll never really know because you've lived here for so long that I don't know how I'd be."

"So you're saying that I should move out."

"No, I would cling to your leg and not let you leave," Chris tells me and I laugh and let my head fall against his shoulder.

"You'd get a lot more play though."

"Yeah and look where that gets me," he says, his voice lowering at the end. He's probably thinking about the real gravity of the situation. "I'm just an idiot."

"It happens, Chris," I reassure him, rubbing his shoulder a little bit.

"What if there's something wrong with me?" he asks and when he looks over at me, I'm reminded of days spent in our treehouse, the one his dad built all of us. My father was never one to work with his hands, despite his humble upbringing. My dad just didn't have the time, but during the offseason for Chris's dad, he made sure to spend as much time with Chris. One summer, when Chris and Shane were eight and I was six, Ted had built Chris and Shane a treehouse in Chris's backyard. Shane had wanted it to be a No Girls Allowed club, but Chris said that wasn't fair and had let me in. We used that treehouse for years, even one time concocting a plan to run away and become surfers in California (though even now, years later, none of us know how to surf).

"I'm sure you'll be fine," I tell him and my hand twitches with the urge to run my hand down the side of his face. The urge is too strong and it does reach up and I run my hand down his face. It's smooth and then course when I get to his beard and I give him a warm smile. "You will be fine and whatever happens, I'll be here for you."

He reaches up and grabs my hand, turning it a little and kissing it softly. I think I'm going to just melt into the couch right here, a nice Stephanie puddle because his lips are so soft and inviting and did I say soft because God, they're soft. "You're amazing."

I feel like this could lead somewhere, but as many things in my life, it doesn't go as planned as the phone decides to ring that second. I know I shouldn't hate the doctor that is probably going to be spilling good news to my best friend and biggest crush, but I do. He couldn't have waited a few minutes to call? He couldn't have taken a sip of coffee and allowed it to digest and _then_ call? Chris takes a deep breath and stands up, walking towards the phone that is sitting on the counter in the kitchen. I walk behind him as he picks it up, standing a safe distance away so I'm not eavesdropping, but close enough in case he needs a hug.

"Hello?" Chris greets the person on the other end. "Oh yeah, hi Dr. Sampson."

He looks over at me and I give him a thumbs up and mouth, "It'll be fine" at him.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks so much for taking the time to see me," Chris says, trying to be polite without appearing as nervous as he is. "Yeah, I know, it is hard to wait." He pauses and I know that he's listening to whatever his doctor has to say. He nods and "mmhmm's" a couple times, listening intently. "Okay, well, thank you so much again for getting to me as soon as you could, I really appreciate it. Thanks again, goodbye."

He hangs up the phone and bites his lip. I'm biting my own lip, wondering if something is wrong. I can't lose Chris. Even if he's nothing to me, nothing I want him to be, I need him. Then he grins and whoops it up and he's near me and picking me up and spinning me around and I'm squealing in sheer surprise. I'm taking this means it was good news and I hug him, letting my arms wrap around him tightly as the room spins around me.

"I'm okay!" he yells in my ear and I only wince from the volume. "Everything came back clean, so we are going out to celebrate!"

He sets me down finally and my hair is completely in my face. Before I can move it behind my ears, his hands are already doing so. There he is, grinning at me and he leans forward to kiss my cheek. It stings in an unexpected way. "Okay, get dressed, we are going fancy."

"Fancy?"

"Yeah, I'm using my clout to get us the best seat at the best restaurant in town."

"Chris, come on, now you're just acting crazy," I laugh.

"I'm acting happy, come on, my treat, get dressed, I want you in something hot. I can't be going out with someone and not have them be hot. My standards have been raised. I'm not getting drunk and sleeping with anyone anymore, we'll celebrate that too."

"Well I'm happy to hear that," I let him know. "Fine, fine, I'll get dressed."

I don't want to think of it as a date. I know it's not, but getting dressed up, him paying for me and him being so happy I think he might burst is enough for me to pretend that this time is different, that this time, because it's such a different setting than usual, that maybe it can be different.

The next week returns to normal and he returns to normal and I'm back to being stuck as his best friend and the girl he thinks of as his little sister. Whatever I thought might happen was clearly only in my mind, like I suspected. I need to stop getting my hopes up about these things and find myself another guy. It's just not going to be in the cards with me and Chris and maybe if I branch out I won't end up having fifteen cats when I'm old and gray. Chris will find someone, he's too personable, too hot not to have someone come in and snatch him up. I'm just lucky that he hasn't found that person yet. But that day will come and I'm terrified of it.

I was just walking down the hallway. I was just walking and minding my own business when I felt Chris's presence. I would know it anywhere. He has played way too many pranks on me for me not to distinguish it. I looked up and he was walking there, his head down and his feet scuffling. I stood there, just standing as he approached me, but I don't think he could even see me. It wasn't until he bumped me with his shoulder and excused himself that he looked up at me. There was something different in his eyes.

So now I'm sitting here, in my dressing room, wondering what has him so down. "You can talk to me," I repeat for the fifth time.

"I know," he says quietly for the fifth time.

"So are we just going to sit here all night?" I wonder. "I mean, you do have work to do so we can't actually sit here all night, but um, feels like we're just going to sit here all night so I just want to see if we're going to sit here all night."

"No."

"No what?"

"We're not going to sit here all night."

"Well that's a relief," I tell him, trying to break the ice that is surrounding us for some reason. I reach out and rub his shoulder. "Chris, something is wrong and it's serious from what I can see, so are you just going to let it out or what?"

"I know who I slept with," Chris said, staring at her.

"You do?" I ask, my back straightening as I look at him. I'm unaware of the deep breath I'm taking until the air whooshes out of my body. "So um, they're in the company then, I mean, if you know, unless they called you, did they call you?"

"They're in the company."

"Oh," I say with a stilted laugh. I kind of want to cry, but I don't let that happen. Chris doesn't sleep with divas, he doesn't and now he's slept with one probably, unless…"Is she in the crew?"

"Diva."

My worst fear realized. "Oh, well, you were…looking for a girlfriend, right? Does she…um, did you talk to her? How did you find out?" I'm not sure I want the name…no, actually, I'm quite sure that I don't want the name.

"She told me," Chris says, his eyebrows knitting and creating that cute crease he gets over his nose. "She came up and told me. I mean, I don't…I know…I just…"

"Chris, what's wrong? It can't be that bad," I tell him. "If you don't like her, you just tell her that it was a mistake, a one time thing and she'll understand and if she doesn't, well, I'll have her fired or something and then you'll never have to see her again. Benefits of having friends in high places, right?"

"I don't think you'll fire her."

I want to fire whoever it is right now so he's wrong in thinking that I wouldn't fire whoever this girl is. "I will if that's what you want. Who is it?"

"Barbie Blank," Chris tells me with a slight scoff. Of all the divas, it had to be the worst one.

"Well, we'll figure it out. We can move her over to the other brand, get her out of your hair, whatever we have to do."

"I don't think that's going to work."

"Why not?" I ask him.

"She's pregnant."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews everyone, I really appreciate them all. This story is starting to go into the more serious direction I guess, but I hope you continue to enjoy it and if you want to review, I would love that, thank you. Enjoy! :)

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One thing I used to love about Chris was that he was always a stand-up guy.

Growing up, he never excluded anyone from whatever he was doing. When I was just a little girl trying to hang out with the big kids, he would always wait for me. In grade school, when it came to picking sides, Chris would always pick the lousiest kid first. He would tell me later on that it didn't matter if he didn't get the _best_ guy because _he_ was usually the best, but I know it was because he felt bad. In high school, he hung out with everyone. He was wildly popular, but not because he hung out with the cool clique, though he fit in easily among them, but because he could put anyone at ease and he usually did. It's a talent he has.

He's always been like this. He's always been the guy who tries to do the right thing. Have there been times when he hasn't? Of course, but we all have those times when we're prone to not do the right thing. As much as I admire his ability to do the right thing, it's not working for me this time. This time is the one time that I wish he wouldn't do the right thing, that he couldn't do the right thing because the right thing seems so very, very wrong. Except that, I guess in his mind and the minds of many people it _is_ the right thing. It's just, the right thing feels horrible to me.

"So we're going to see her parents this weekend," Chris tells me over breakfast. I'm just sitting on a stool and he comes downstairs and talks to me like it's nothing except we both know it isn't. I can hear the slight waver in his voice and maybe he can feel the tension that seems to be radiating off me. I slip another spoonful of cereal into my mouth as I watch him start the coffee machine. I don't drink coffee so he usually only makes enough for himself when he gets up.

"That's nice," I say dully and hope he can't hear my tone.

He glances over his shoulder. "Yeah."

"So you're definitely…you know…"

"I don't know," he says as he pours the ground beans into the top of the machine. He closes it and turns to me, hands on the counter. I take him in. His hair is tousled as usual, no hair gel to meticulously spike it up and he's wearing a sleeveless shirt and some boxer shorts. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, the…well, you know, the baby," I tell him. "You're sure that you want to…go through with it?"

I almost expect him to be aghast at the mere suggestion of _that_. I don't even know if I can bring myself to really broach the subject. Chris has always been more religious than me and while that's not a bad thing, it's a thing. Still, I don't know what his feelings are on anything, well, I mean I do, he's told me what he's been feeling, overwhelmed mostly, but then, any guy who is being told he's going to be a father unexpectedly is going to feel overwhelmed. I just wish I could wrap him up in my arms and somehow make it better for him but I can't.

I can't get the sight of his wounded face out of my mind. I keep dreaming about it every night and it's torture. It's torture because we both know Barbie Blank is not supposed to be the one carrying his child. Now, I'm not saying that it should be _me, _although in my mind it is, but I can tell by look at him that he doesn't think it should be Barbie. He's probably thinking of some woman who is gorgeous and smart and so not like his little sister. Apparently, I don't really fit that bill since I'm too much like a little sister to him. I really shouldn't be thinking of myself at a time like this. I'm supposed to be supportive of Chris, not thinking about how I've completely lost him now.

"What other choice do I have?" he asked.

"Well…"

"Scout…"

"I'm not saying that you _should_, I'm just saying that there are other options out there," I tell him. "I'm not telling you what to do, I'm just asking if this is absolutely what you want to do, that's all. I'm worried about you. I mean, one second, we're just worried about you catching something, then the next second, you find out that it's Barbie and that she's pregnant and you've decided to be with her, what's next, are you going to propose?"

I look at him and he looks down at his feet. I absolutely scoff as I just stare at him. Oh God, if ever you existed, please do not tell me that he's actually thinking about proposing to that stupid, vapid stripper wannabe! He cannot honestly be thinking about doing that. Barbie is all wrong for him. I'm not saying she's a terrible girl because she's not, she's just…there's no substance there. I've talked to her and she's vapid like I said. She's shallow and she's always flitting from guy to guy. Why did the _one_ guy that I wanted have to be the one that got her pregnant?

"Chris, you're not serious," I tell him, leaning forward a little as if being closer to him will somehow change the answer.

"I don't want my kid growing up in two different places," he says quietly, thoughtfully, and he probably has thought about this until his eyes have made everything swim in front of him.

"So you take the kid from her and you don't let her raise it," I say like this is a logical solution, although I can't see Barbie being a mother to any living being. I know, I'm catty when I'm mad, but I have every reason to be.

"I can't do that, she's it's mother."

"Some mother," I mutter under my breath.

"Stephanie, I'm not asking you for your opinion. I want her to keep it, it just wouldn't feel right if she didn't, you know what I mean," he says and it's like he's pleading for me to understand. "I can't just…it's a kid, you know. It's _my_ kid and I just…I can't."

"So you're just going to be with her out of obligation then?" I ask.

"She's not as bad as you think," he tells me, but he says it without any kind of conviction.

"You're insane, you know that, right?" I shoot at him. "You're completely insane."

"Stephanie, stop, okay," he said, walking forward and laying his hands on the counter before he looks me straight in the eyes. "I don't know what to do here, okay? I don't know what I want, but I don't want my kid growing up and thinking it was some kind of mistake. Barbie's not that bad."

"Bullshit," I tell him right to his face. "If she weren't pregnant, there's no way you'd ever even consider being with her."

"But the fact is she _is_ pregnant."

"That doesn't mean you have to be with her!" I yell at him. "God, nowadays there are so many different types of family and you just…the fact that you're willing to be with someone you don't love-"

"She's having my baby!"

"You don't love her!" I want to shake him. I want to grab him by the shoulders and just shake him and then I want to shake him some more so that he will see what he does to me so that he will see how I see him. I just want that recognition to run across his features.

"I can learn to love her."

I turn away. "So what, are you going to move out then? Are you going to move down to Florida and live with her?"

"No, I was thinking she could come live here, with us."

"You've got to be kidding me."

I don't want her here. I don't want her encroaching on my territory. This house, this is my sanctuary. When I come here, I don't want to deal with anything heavy. I like the house to be light, which is why there's so many colors and kitschy stuff around. I don't want the heaviness my parent's house has. Bringing Barbie into this situation just seems like it would be counterproductive to that. To watch her and Chris's baby growing inside of her will…I don't even know what it'll do to me. It will break me.

"Maybe…maybe it's time for me to move out then," I say, though my voice cracks slightly.

His eyes widen as they bore into me, "What are you talking about? You're not going anywhere, this is your house too."

"Chris, the house is in your name so really, it's _not_ mine, I've just been living here."

"For the past ten years," he says, "and you pay utilities so don't start with the 'house is not mine' crap. You're not going anywhere. This has been your home and it will remain your home."

"Chris, if you're determined to do this the 'right way' as you're putting it, you're going to want to start a home, you're not going to want to have me here." I will not see him raise a family around me while I stand out in the cold. I'm trying so hard to be mature about this, but as much of a bombshell this was for him, it was for me too and now I'm just trying to salvage my pride.

"You can't leave."

"Chris…"

He walks around the counter and he grabs my face in his hands. They're slightly cold, but they warm me up immensely. He leans down a little to look right into my face, our noses almost touching. "You can't go anywhere, Scout, I'm going to need you. I don't know what I'm doing here and I'm so lost and if I lose you too…"

"When are you going to tell your parents?" I ask. I don't want to get into what he just said to me. I don't want to think about the words he only means as a friend. Sure, I could twist them and turn them in such a way that they'll look all pretty and shiny to me, but the fact remains that some other woman is having his child.

"When the kid starts college," he says with hopefulness.

"You're going to have to tell them, it's not like you're 17 and knocked some girl up, you're 34 so you're in the prime of your baby-making days."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I guess I can tell them next week when we come home. I would tell them this weekend, but I have the aforementioned weekend with Barbie's family."

"So are you like, her boyfriend now?" I wonder, hoping he'll suddenly change his mind, not be a stand-up guy and bend me over the counter and kiss me so hard we both forget there ever was a Barbie Blank.

"I guess you can say that…about that, um…"

"Um?" I say, not liking where this is going. I've never seen Chris stumble over his words so much since he lost both his front teeth and every word he said came out like a whistle. "What's with the um?"

"Well, I told Barbie that she could come up for the week, she's actually arriving this afternoon. I figured, you know, we should probably get to know each other more since we're going to have a baby. I'm…we're going to go out, see how we like each other and everything. She really wants us to be together, I think she's a little freaked out about telling her parents and so I agreed."

"I can't believe that you're honestly thinking about dating this woman just because she's carrying your child."

"It's more than that."

"So what, you would do this with any girl? What if…" I'm completely going off the deep end now, but I always tend to let my emotions gets the best of me and thinking about Chris forcing himself to date someone like Barbie doesn't just send them into overdrive, but it's breaking the sound barrier right now. "What if we slept together one night, we just let passions take over us and you get me pregnant, you would've done…what with me, huh? You would've dated me, married me."

"Well you would be preferable to the alternative," Chris muses and I roll my eyes, not even that can make me feel better right now.

"So you would've married me then, just because I was pregnant."

"I think being married to you would be like an old shoe, you know, comfortable, familiar."

"But you don't love me!" Well, _that's_ out there now.

"I do love you."

"But you're not _in_ love with me and you're not in love with Barbie and now you're just being ridiculous about the whole thing. Just because she's having your baby gives you no obligation to suddenly be with her or marry her…oh my God, Chris, you _are_ thinking about proposing to her!"

"There are worse things in the world…"

"I will not let you do this."

"You don't really have a say over my life," he tells me gently. We stare at each other and as much as I want to control him, at least right now, he's right. He's right and I can't control what he chooses to do or whom he chooses to do it with. If he marries her, God, he doesn't even love her. What kind of sham marriage would that be if he were to marry her? She would look like the cat who got the canary and he would be miserable.

"Well you know what, Chris?" I sneer.

"What?"

"If you want to throw your life down the drain, you're on your own."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, glad you're liking the story. I kind of like this chapter so I hope you do too, so enjoy and if you want to review, I ain't gonna stop ya. ;)

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I pull my jacket tighter around me. It's a particularly cold night and I just didn't bring anything with me to help keep out the cold. I just pulled up to my parent's house after driving around pretty much all day. I thought about going to my brother's house, but he's in New York and that's too far to drive with my eyes blurry like they are. I'm surprised I was even able to get here without running into a telephone pole or something. Maybe it would be better to wrap my car around a pole than try to think my way through this thing with Chris.

I don't want him to marry Barbie, I really don't want him anywhere near her to begin with, but I especially don't want him to marry Barbie. I know that he thinks that it's the right thing to do, that the kid will get both parents, but he cannot possibly think that marrying someone he's not in love with would ever work. It goes beyond whatever feelings I have for him, it goes into the realm of him being happy and he'd never be happy with someone like Barbie. Oh sure, she would love it, having this amazing man on her arm, getting to show him off, someone old enough to take care of her. I have no doubt Barbie would probably quit wrestling and end up sitting on her ass the rest of her life.

I ring the doorbell. I forgot to grab my key when I left, I forgot to grab anything really. I don't have any clothes, I don't have any toiletries. I literally just grabbed my car keys and left. I was too upset to think rationally. I ring the doorbell again, hoping my mom will come answer the door soon so I can run upstairs to my old bedroom and curl under the covers and forget that I'm an adult and that I have responsibilities or obligations and just lie there and let the warmth of my old comforter spread over me and lull me into a deep sleep that will hopefully last for the next eighteen or so years.

I ring the doorbell again and again, wondering what is taking my parents so long to answer the door. I pull away from the house a little bit and look up. The entire house is dark. I think for a moment and remember that they're in Florida this week at their condo down there. I run my hand over my face and close my eyes. My parents would never leave a spare key just lying around and I can't go back home. Chris will be there and he'll want to talk and I don't want to talk to him tonight or ever again. I just want to go to sleep. I turn around and start walking towards my car. I guess I could go to New York or just find a local hotel to stay at.

I'm just opening the door to my car when I look across the street. I bite my lip and look over at Chris's parents' house. I know they're home and I know they would take me in. They've always been like parents to me and I know they would never turn me away. Feeling like I have no other options makes me run down the driveway and across the street. I dash up to the door and ring the doorbell. I can see a light come on in the hallway and then Loretta is answering the door.

"Stephanie?" she asks, confused, and I don't blame her. I haven't shown up at their door like this since the time I snuck out of my house and forgot the key. Ted had been kind and given the spare key to me without explanations.

"Can I stay here tonight?" I ask her and my voice sounds as pathetic as I feel.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" Loretta asked, pulling me into the house. I shake my head, my voice suddenly feeling fuzzy and she runs her hands up and down my arms. "You're freezing. Come on, let's get you into a bed and then I'll make you some tea."

It sounds so nice. My mother, God love her, would never coddle me and put me to bed or make me tea. Sure, she would feel sorry for me, but not like this. Loretta leads me upstairs and into one of the spare bedrooms, the one I used to sleep in whenever I had to stay over at their house. It's a tidy room, done in a soft blue color with a large, comfy bed. She sits me down before she disappears, coming back with an old t-shirt and some shorts. I look at them and they're Chris's, probably leftover from his teenage years.

Something inside of me seems to crash in on itself, like a black hole. Just seeing his clothes breaks me and I let out a sob from somewhere deep in my chest. I'm not even sure why I'm crying. There are too many reasons and emotions running through me that I can't grab any. I think I startle Loretta, but she recovers and in a moment, she's holding me against her, my head against her collarbone as she runs her hand over my hair. I'm just sitting here, crying and I can't even stop, I just gasp for more breath that doesn't seem to come fast enough and I'm hiccupping and I feel like a child who has done something wrong except I haven't.

"Shh, sweetheart, shh," Loretta whispers to me, her lips in my hair, kissing me like a mother should. "Whatever it is, it'll be okay."

"It won't," I struggle to let the words out, but they come, soaked in tears and they make my voice sound hoarser than usual.

"It will, it will," she assures me, but she doesn't even know what's going on and I can't even tell her because it's not my news to tell. It's Chris's and I can't let it out because it would hurt his mother and it would hurt him and as angry and upset as I am with him right now, I can't do this to him.

I just keep crying, trying to gather myself, but whenever I think I can keep my composure, I think about Chris going to Barbie's house, his arm wrapped around her, his hand resting on the stomach that keeps his child safe and they start again, harder and with more feeling behind them and I'm clutching at Loretta because I can't handle it and it seems like she's the only anchor to the real world that I have. To her credit and my gratefulness, she just sits there with me and doesn't make me feel humiliated. Eventually, she coaxes me into a lying position and she's sitting with me, rubbing my back as I get the pillow wet with tears instead of her shirt. The weight of hurt is pressing down on my chest, but eventually it alleviates to the point where I'm sniffling.

Loretta reaches to the bedside where she conveniently keeps a box of tissues and she grabs a few and hands them to me. I take them and blow my nose and then throw it in the trash next to the bed. She doesn't say anything for a long moment, just giving me more tissues so I can wipe my eyes. Finally, she speaks as I know she's going to," Stephanie, what happened?"

"I'm sorry, Loretta, I wanted to go to my parent's, but they weren't there."

"Yes, I know, we're watching the house while they're gone," she said, "but why don't you go home? Did you have a fight with Chris?"

I don't want to say anything, but I can't lie, so I just say, "Yeah, I did."

"Oh, that boy can be so insensitive!" Loretta said through gritted teeth. "I can't believe he would upset you this much. I'm going to call him right now and give him some thoughts on what I think-"

"No!" I exclaim, sitting up and facing her. I probably look a mess, but I don't care, I don't want her to talk to Chris. "Please, Loretta, please don't talk to him, please don't tell him I'm even here, I don't want him to know."

"Stephanie, what happened?"

I start to think about it and tears start coming again and I'm covering my face in shame. Loretta is next to me again while I sob out disjointed words, "He…just…can't…no…won't go back…I don't want to…"

"Oh, sweetheart," she's hugging me again and I'm crying again and I can't seem to just say no and stop crying. Why does this have to hurt so much? I always knew it was a possibility, a _good_ possibility that Chris wouldn't marry me. He's never seen me as more than his Scout, a little sister that he loves because he doesn't know anything else. I just didn't think it would be this soon, I didn't think it would be with Barbie, and I didn't think it would be under these circumstances.

"He…why?" That word holds everything I've ever wanted to ask him but was too cowardly to really ask. I just want to know why he never could see me as that girl. Why wasn't it me that he slept with and why wasn't I the one pregnant with his baby? I try to compose myself again and when I wipe my eyes, Loretta is staring at me and I'm embarrassed. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess, it wasn't…"

"You're in love with my son." There's no question to her words, only knowing and I look away, now more humiliated than I have been since I stepped onto her doorstep. I'm ashamed of the way I feel and in front of his mother of all people.

"Loretta…"

"Sweetheart, how long?" She sounds sympathetic and I just look at her and raise my eyebrow. Loretta closes her eyes and then engulfs me in a hug. "I had no idea."

"It's not a big deal," I tell her and I pretend like I honestly think that's true. "It's really not, it's not even a big thing. We just had a fight, that's all."

"It was enough to make you leave there," she says and I nod. "Oh, I swear, that boy is so stubborn. He never sees anything that's right in front of his face, he's just like his father that way. His father took three months to even ask me out on a date, three _months_. He was oblivious, my son will come around."

I wish that were the case, I wish I could believe that, but I can't anymore. Not when all of this other stuff is going on, stuff that his mother has no idea about. "It's not even that, Loretta. It's just, I don't know, I think that we're too close. The house, it's cramped, I guess. How can I…it's too cramped."

"I'm sure everything will work out, now is not the time for rash decisions." If she only knew her son was considering proposing to a woman he got pregnant. Then she would really know the kind of rash decisions she was dealing with here. "We just have to talk things out."

The doorbell rang, interrupting us and it could only be one person this late at night. "Loretta, please, please don't tell him I'm here, I left my car at my parent's house, please don't let him know I'm here, I can't face him right now."

"Of course, of course," Loretta said, "you just get comfortable, I'll get him to leave and then I'll make you that tea."

"Thank you," I tell her, glad she's on my side here. She leaves the room and I wait a few moments before I peek my head out and then silently tiptoe down the hallway, clinging to the wall. The voices from downstairs grow louder and I know I shouldn't eavesdrop, but I can't help it.

"Mom, are you sure she's not here? I've spent all day looking at the usual places and I thought she might come home, but she didn't and she's not at any of the usual places so I thought she might go to her parent's," Chris asks and I think I can hear a tinge of concern in his voice, but it's too faint for me to tell. I'm tempted to scoot down the wall so I can hear better, but it might alert Chris to the fact I'm here so stay where I am.

"She's not here, Christopher."

"But…I went over to her parent's house, her car is there and I used her key, she left it at our house, and I went inside, but there's nobody there, are you _sure_ she's not here?"

"Well, maybe she took one of her parent's cars or something?"

"No, no, I checked that, I checked every room and she wasn't there. I even checked the guesthouse and she wasn't in there either." It doesn't take me another few feet to tell that he _is_ worried about me. I bite my lip, contemplating whether I should make my presence known. I know that I'm pretty much punishing him right now, but he'll never know how hurt I feel right now, how hopeless I see my future. I guess, against all wishes, I did see myself carrying Chris's child, him happy with me, married, we already had the house. Just…I pictured it and sue me, I wanted it so bad. I know it's childish to be in my thirties and still daydreaming about a perfect life with my perfect guy, but I just always get that way with Chris. So stepping out there and talking to him…but he sounds so worried.

Then I remember that Barbie was supposed to arrive this afternoon and she's probably sitting in my home, on my couch, the same couch Chris and I have lounged on, fallen asleep on, and I can't stand the thought of her seeing where I spend my intimated moments. I can't stand the thought of her being anywhere near where I sleep, where I keep pictures of Chris and me as kids. This makes me press against the wall some more, wishing I could fall into it and into another dimension.

"I'm sure she's okay."

"Mom, it's getting dark, she could be out walking and what if something happened to her? I don't think she has her phone, she's not answering it," Chris's voice gets more desperate. I left my phone in my car so I didn't know he was trying to call me.

"Maybe she just needs some time alone."

"But…we had a fight, I have to make it better…I want to make it better."

"Give her some time. If this was a bad fight, she's going to need some time."

"You don't understand, Mom, she might…she might leave me."

"And this upsets you?" My ears perk up. I can tell his mother is rooting for information and I love her for it.

But his words are not what I want to hear, "She's my best friend, I need her."

I scoff and turn around. I don't need to hear anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, I really appreciate them. I really have no clue where the hell I'm going with this story, but hopefully it's somewhere facing the right direction to where I want to go eventually. I almost caved in this chapter, but I'm resisting just getting these two crazy people together! Wish me luck! Enjoy! :)

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"Where have you been?"

I look up and see Chris walking down the front steps of my parents' house. I pause there, halfway up my driveway, my car keys in hand. He's glaring at me, in a crumpled set of clothes, his hair askew. I gather that he spent the night in my parents' house because he's just walking out of it. I can't believe he would spend the night there when his so-called "girlfriend" or "fiancée" or whatever the hell he's calling Barbie these days is probably back at _my_ house, looking through _my_ things, and invading _my_ space.

"What's it to you?" I say loudly as I continue to make my way towards my car. I'm not sure where I'm headed, but right now any place that doesn't contain Chris Irvine is fine with me. Maybe I can go stay with Shane for a little while. Marissa is always asking me to visit, probably needing some adult time. I'm sure they would take me in.

"What's it _to me_?" he says angrily as I open my door. His hand is slamming it shut again and I turn to him, feeling my face tense as I gaze at him.

"Let me go."

"No way," he tells me, shaking his head as he keeps his hand on my door. I fold my arms and lean my weight on one leg. "You don't get to just waltz up to your car and leave, that's not how this works."

"How what works?" I challenge him. "I am under no obligation to you so move your hand and let me go. I'm going back home and I'll gather up some things and-"

"Shut up," he almost yells at me and I'm so indignant and shocked right now that I want to deck him in the face. I know I probably wouldn't do as much damage as say, Paul Wight, but I like to think I would throw him off his gourd for a little bit, at least enough time to make my getaway. I rear my hand back, but he's too quick and he's grabbing my hand, not hard, but enough so I don't punch him in the face. "Stop it, Stephanie, where the hell were you last night?"

"Again, like I said, I have no obligation to tell you _anything_, now let go of me," I pull my arm away from him and attempt to get into my car, pulling on the handle while Chris holds it closed. I'm frustrated now and so I start shoving at him, but he doesn't budge. So I try harder, putting my whole weight against him, like I can move him enough to where I can just hop in my car and leave, maybe running over his foot in the process. Sweet justice that'd be. Instead he grabs me around the waist and hauls me away from the car, actually lifting me off the ground. I start flailing my legs around and yelling at him, "Let me go! Let me go, Chris!"

"Not until we talk!" he manages to grunt after I get him good in the leg. "Oww, damn it, Stephanie!"

"Stop it," I tell him, calming down. "Just put me down."

"Do you promise not to run away?" he asks.

"I promise," I tell him, looking over my shoulder and into his eyes.

He looks at me a moment before he sets me down carefully. As soon as his arms are gone, I make a mad dash for my car, trying to reach for the handle before Chris can get there. Unfortunately, he has longer strides than I do and he's at the door again and pulling me away and we're struggling with each other and I'm not sure whose hands belong to whom, but I'm trying to hit him and he's trying to swat me away and I'm trying to get away at the same time and it's all so confusing and then he starts to lose his balance and as I grab one of his wrists, I start to fall too and then suddenly I'm on top of him and we're in a heap on my parents' driveway. I'm breathing heavily from the fight and he is too.

I don't know what happens, but it feels like there's a moment. I can't really describe it in words because how can you really accurately describe a feeling or a moment when you aren't sure what you're experiencing? He's just looking at me, something like loss in his eyes except I have no idea what he really thinks he's losing here. I just stare down at him, this man I've known since he was a boy, barely older than a baby, whom I've loved for so long and who has seemed so unreachable, this never-ending carrot dangling in front of my face that gets just out of reach whenever I try to make the grab for him.

I can feel him breathing beneath me, his chest heaving and falling as he tries to catch his breath. My body moves in concordance with his, one breath it seems for the both of us. My hands are on his chest, as if I'm about to push off and I guess they got there when I was trying to break my fall because I don't remember putting them there. I can feel his heartbeat beneath my palms, like his pulse is rushing up at me from his chest, lifting the rhythm onto my hands. I don't know what's happening.

"Where were you?" he asks quietly, sadly. "I looked everywhere."

Whatever anger I may have been feeling towards him disappears with those words. It's not so much that he might have missed me, though I'm sure he did, but it's the concern and worry I hear in his voice that makes my anger evaporate like morning mist. I look away, this is hard to see, that broken face. I don't want to contribute to any pain he's feeling right now.

"I was staying at your parents' house," I tell him, my breath rushing around him.

"I went there last night, my mom said you weren't there," he says, confused.

"I asked her to lie for me," I reveal to him, looking down at his chest, where my hands are still sitting. "I was upstairs when you came over."

"How could you do that to me?" If I thought he was sad and broken earlier, the look on his face right now would break my heart into a million pieces if it could. "I didn't know where you were, I was so worried, I thought…I thought something had happened to you."

"I couldn't be around you. Chris, don't you get that sometimes someone needs time by themselves, to stew. You can't come running after me after every fight we have. We're not…we're friends…"

"We're more than friends," Chris tells me and my head starts and I think I visibly flinch at the words. I only hope that he doesn't see so my embarrassment isn't evident. I stare into his face, searching his eyes for whatever answer is there. "Stephanie, you're like everything to me. Who else has been there for every big moment of my life? My parents don't even know half the stuff you do about me. I need you here for this one."

I finally push myself off of him, offering my hand so he can stand up. I lean against my car; I'm not going to go anywhere until this is hashed out and the only way it can be hashed out is if I talk it out with him. "Chris, this situation doesn't include me."

"But it does," he tells me, grabbing my hands. "I can't do this without you."

I shake my head, "Don't you get it?"

I almost want to tell him that I can't be a part of this because it hurts too much, because everything inside of me is rebelling against it. I can't control this situation and I can't change this situation. There's a child involved, a _child_. Chris wants to be in this child's life, full-stop and how can I compete with that? Is there even a competition? Chris, like any good person, would choose his child first, no matter what the circumstances were surrounding the conception of that child.

"I don't…" He's shaking his head now too and we might as well be a couple of bobbleheads for all the head shaking we're doing.

"Chris, this is between you and Barbie, not me, you, and Barbie. She's…having your kid. You want to be with her, that's your decision, but I can't be a part of it because I'm not a part of it. I don't agree with what you're doing."

"I'm not asking you to agree, just be there for me."

"I'll always _be _there," I tell him and it's true, even in his darkest hour I can hardly abandon him, "but I can't be a part of it anymore. It's just not possible. You want to be with the mother of your child, do it, be with her, but don't expect me to sit around and shoot the breeze like I'm suddenly going to be her best friend, not when even the mere idea that she's sitting in my home right now makes my stomach turn."

"She's not there."

"She's not?" Now it's my turn to be confused.

"I told her to stay at her house when I found out how upset you were, when you left. I had to go after you so I just told her to hold off. She's still in the early stages, she can wait to tell her parents for another week."

I feel only slightly better, but there's still a world of hurt in my chest and nothing at this point is going to make it better except time and distance. I wish it didn't have to come to this, but it feels like it might be the only way to retain my sanity in all of this. I'm pining after a man I not only can't have, but one who doesn't want me, sees me as nothing more than a best friend or sister. It's been too long that I've been living in this half-existence, waiting and hoping that one day he'll wake up and see me as something more than I am to him. It's been years and maybe this baby _will_ help me in a way, help me to see that I've been wasting my life and my happiness hoping for a different kind of happiness that just won't ever come. I need to start being okay with this.

"Well, I'm glad you thought so highly of me," I say and I don't mean it to come off as bitter, but it might anyways, just from what I'm saying.

"Scout, you know you're one of the most important people in the world to me."

"I know," I say, "but I still think that I should move out."

"What? No, I thought, no, you have to come home…"

"Chris, I think I need to and it's not because I'm mad at you or anything like that, I just think it's time for me to get my own place. I'm in my 30's and I'm still living with my best friend? I have to stop tethering myself to you at some point, right?"

"But it's your house, you can't just leave."

"It's _your_ house, I just moved in remember?"

"It's been a decade!"

"I know and that's too long," I laugh mirthlessly. "I just think that our lives are changing and we have to change with it. I'm going to call Shane and see if I can't stay with him and Rissa for a few days while I look for somewhere to live. New York sounds really nice or maybe somewhere closer to Stamford. But I think I need to just…be on my own for a while. I hope you understand."

"I don't," he tells me. "I don't understand."

"You're having a baby," I say to him, placing my hand on his shoulder and squeezing. "You're going to be building this _life_ and I can't tag along with that. I need to start building my own life."

"I don't like this, Steph."

I don't like it either, but what can I do? Live with him and Barbie while Chris pretends like he loves that girl? I can't imagine a worse existence than seeing the two of them play house while I get to act like the creepy houseguest that doesn't leave. Inevitably, he's going to want Barbie to move up here and I don't want to be there when it happens. I don't want to see a baby day in and day out that shouldn't have such blonde hair or squinty eyes. I'll always be his friend, nothing is ever going to change that.

"You don't have to like it, Chris, just accept it."

"I don't want to."

I lean forward and kiss his cheek. "It'll be good for the both of us. We hang on too tight sometimes, Chris, and sometimes we have to let go so we can both grow…wow, that sounded way less cheesy in my head, I'm sorry."

"Please don't leave me," he actually pleads for me to stay. I can feel that familiar sting behind my eyes that pushes forward into a slow burn. If this were some movie, he'd lean forward and kiss me, but it's time to stop thinking like my life can turn out as some movie and accept the truth of the situation.

"In time you'll understand."

I start to say something, when movement catches the corner of my eye and I turn to see Loretta striding up the driveway. I panic a little at the way she's looking at the two of us, but I still trust her with the information. "Chris, you're still here?" she asks her son before turning to me. "Stephanie, you left before you could have breakfast, I was hoping I'd catch you over here, but now that you're both here, we can all have breakfast."

"Okay," Chris says quickly, grabbing my hand abruptly, holding it tightly like if he lets go I'm going to just run.

"I really can't, Loretta, but thank you," I say politely. "I wanted to call my brother and-"

"Nonsense," Loretta says, "you can't start your day without food in your stomach, come on, you can stay for one meal." I feel trapped, but I follow along wordlessly. "Then you can be on your way if you like, have you two made up?"

"Um, no," I say hesitantly.

"Well, I'll just have to tell my son to stop being stupid."

Now I'm very afraid.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, guys, I really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's more of a filler chapter I think, but still hope you enjoy and reviews are really very welcome, thanks. :)

* * *

"Doesn't Stephanie look beautiful today?"

I want to groan. Two minutes into the meal and I'm already mortified. For one, I don't look beautiful, I'm in the same clothes I wore yesterday and I haven't even brushed my hair yet. For two, it's becoming extremely obvious what Loretta is trying to do, at least to me. I didn't want her to interfere; I don't want anyone to interfere, especially not now. I'm supposed to be moving on, forgetting about this thing with Chris and Loretta is going to push it on us.

"Um, yeah," Chris says, looking over at me, "but she always looks beautiful."

Loretta looks extremely pleased with the response and she kisses the side of her son's head, "It's about time you notice, don't you think?"

"Notice what?" Chris asks as he grabs a piece of toast that's sitting on the table. Apparently, they're waiting for the pancakes to be done and so all that's on the table are eggs, toast, and bacon. I grab a slice of bacon and shove it in my mouth to give me something to do.

"That Stephanie is beautiful."

"I've always noticed that," Chris says, looking at his mom strangely. I want to melt into the floor and I wish I had somehow told Loretta that I couldn't come in here for breakfast. But then, if I didn't come inside and Chris did, I can't even imagine how much Loretta would push. I appreciate her efforts and wanting me for her son, but if she knew…

"Did you hear that, Stephanie, he thinks you're beautiful," Loretta says, raising her eyebrows like she expects me to jump across the table and start making out with Chris. While the idea is always tempting, I'm not about to do anything of the sort and I kind of wish Loretta would quit while she's ahead.

"I heard," I say weakly, then add, "Thanks, Chris."

He shrugs a bit before buttering his toast. Things feel so awkward between us and I don't know how to stave off the feeling. Things are weird right now after the talk we just had in front of my parent's house. I just want to eat and get out of here. I figure I can grab a few things at home and then stay with my parents until I can find a new place. Or, if I really want a change of scenery, I can go to Shane and Marissa's place. Being around my nephews would certainly boost my mood.

"It's just the truth," he mumbles around the chewing. His mother goes into the kitchen to check on breakfast.

"Your father had to leave early for some meeting or another with his real estate broker," Loretta calls from the kitchen, "so eat as much as you want, there's nobody you have to compete with this morning!"

"Stephanie," Chris starts, ignoring what his mother just said, "can we please go home after this and talk?"

"Chris, I think I made it perfectly clear that what we both need is to be separate from one another."

"But I'm going to need my best friend," he pleads and he's giving me that damn puppy-dog face with his head down and just staring up at me with those baby blues. I've got to remain strong though because if I don't, I'll cave and watching Barbie's stomach get bigger with _Chris's_ child is not an option.

"I never said I wouldn't be there for you," I let him know and it's the truth. No matter how hard it's going to be seeing them together and seeing Chris with a child, I'm not going to completely abandon him. I could never, not after everything we've been through. "I'm just saying that I'm not going to live with you anymore."

"I just don't understand why!"

"Chris, you have a million and one friends, around the world even and you don't live with any of them," I try to argue with him. "It won't matter if you live with me or not for me to be there with you."

"You've lived with me for like ten years, it's just not going to be the same without you there."

"What's not going to be the same?" Loretta wonders as she walks back into the room. I look to Chris and he's looking to me and I don't know what to say!

"I'm going to be moving out," I finally say because while I can't tell the truth of the matter, it's not like I have to completely lie. Sooner or later, Loretta is going to find out and I might as well soften the blow, maybe?

"Moving out of your house?" Loretta asks, sitting down and staring at me critically. "The one you share with Chris?"

"Yes, that's the same one I'm talking about," I answer. "I just think that it's time for me to move out. I'm in my thirties, I'm not getting any younger and eventually I'm going to want to be with someone and it'd be strange if I was still living with Chris while starting a life and a family."

I know I'm hitting Chris below the belt, but a huge part of me doesn't care. I just look pointedly at him and he has the decency to look sheepish. He doesn't get why this is hard for me. I'm not comparing what he's going through to what I'm going through, but he has to understand some of my perspective. I'm not the kind of person who wants to be the third wheel. I just want him to get why this is hard for me.

"But…I don't understand, you two have lived together for so long and this is just out of the blue."

"I can't really stop her," Chris says, looking at me wistfully. He's giving me his version of a blessing to go and I nod imperceptibly. "I mean, she's a grown woman and I think her parents are finally at the point where they believe she's able to live by herself."

"I would hope so," I try to lighten the mood, but it's as thick as ever.

"But you two are so good together and where are you going to go, Stephanie?"

"I'm not sure yet, I figured that I can just stay with my parents or Shane until I can find a place to stay."

"You want to move out immediately?" Chris asks and he's shocked by this and I nod, telling him with my eyes that this was my plan all along. For the few brief moments he had been somewhat expecting of this, now he's back on the 'what the hell are you doing?' train. "You can stay at home until you find a place."

"I think it's best if I leave immediately."

"I'll be right back, I think I need more pancakes," Loretta says, looking down at her plate, which is uneaten, but I figure she needs a few moments because just last night I was admitting I was in love with her son and now I want as far away from him as possible immediately.

"What do you mean you're going to stay with your parents?" Chris hisses at me, his hands pressing on the table like he's going to slam his palms into it.

"I mean what I said," I tell him. "I'm going home, getting my things and then I'll stay with my parents or Shane and Rissa. I don't want to be around Barbie and that situation if it's anything to you."

"I didn't do…you're acting like I'm slighting you or something," Chris says and maybe finally he'll get why I've been like this for so long, but of course he won't because he's absolutely clueless. "What did I do to you to make you so angry?"

"I'm not angry!" I'm seething and that's very different from angry. I've surpassed angry, I surpassed it yesterday. Why does he keep trying to cling to me when I keep trying to break away?

"You are," he argues, "look at you right now, you look like you want to throw his food in my face."

"Maybe I do!"

"Then do it!"

"What is going on with you two!" Loretta says from the doorway, her hands on her hips and I feel like a child right then, being scolded by my second mom. There were times growing up where everything wasn't perfect. Sometimes my parents were gone for two or three weeks and the close proximity to Chris would ignite arguments. Of course, we were in single digits so we were prone to fighting, but we're both older now and we should know better.

"Nothing," I say, looking down.

"No, there's something going on here and I think I have a right to know seeing as how you are in _my_ house and behaving like children!"

"It's nothing, Mom, really," Chris says. "I just wish Stephanie wasn't moving out is all."

"Then why don't you try and stop her," Loretta prompts him and I wonder how he'll get out of this one. "I don't understand why this is going on. I don't understand and I feel like I'm the _only_ one in this room who doesn't understand. There's something you're not telling me."

"Mom, I got a girl pregnant," Chris confesses, his hands playing with the edge of the table. I just watch as his fingernail goes back and forth over the worn edge. I look up from his hands and he's staring down at them too. I glance at Loretta and I swear she already has tears in her eyes.

"You what?" she asks, probably just to confirm it, just to make sure the traitorous feelings welling up inside her are correct. I know the feeling.

"I got a girl pregnant," he says again, slower this time as if he's letting it sink into his mom's psyche.

"Stephanie?" Loretta's head immediately snaps to me and I know her first thought is the girl in that sentence is me and that somehow Chris and I don't agree on this baby or that Chris has done something wrong to drive me away. I shake my head and Loretta's face falls a little bit and she understands everything over the past 16 hours or so.

"Stephanie?" Chris says. "What? No, God no!"

Well as if I needed any more daggers to the heart, he just has to add another one. "So you got some girl pregnant? I didn't even know you had a girlfriend."

"She's not a girlfriend," Chris tells her and I feel the sudden urge to run. I don't feel like I should be part of this conversation, let alone here to _see_ this conversation. How do you tell your mother that you had a one night stand you can't even remember with a girl who is more than 10 years younger than you and that on top of that, you plan to be with this girl who you barely even know?

"Christopher," she says and even I can hear the disappointment in her voice. "Who is this girl?"

"It's um, Barbie Blank, you might know her as Kelly Kelly," Chris tells her and Loretta wracks her brain trying to think of who this girl is.

"Wait, wait, the girl who had the stripping gimmick?" Loretta asks. "That one, the one with the squinty eyes?"

"Yeah, that's her." I find it interesting that Chris doesn't even try to defend Barbie in any fashion. He doesn't say that the gimmick wasn't her idea and he doesn't say that she doesn't have squinty eyes, which can't be considered a compliment. You'd think, if he was going to be her boyfriend or fiancé or husband that he would defend her, even against his mother.

His mother seems speechless and I bet she's picturing how this should have gone, how Chris should have been married or at least in a committed relationship and how he and his girlfriend or wife would come to his parents and share the news and there'd be joy all around. It wouldn't be a moment filled with sadness and disappointment. Loretta looks at me and all I see is sympathy in her eyes. By Chris revealing his secret, Loretta now knows all of mine.

"I think I'm going to go," I stand up and grab a piece of toast. "Thank you for breakfast, Loretta, and thank you for letting me stay here tonight."

"Stephanie," she calls after me and just as I'm leaving I see her slap the back of Christopher's head and mutter at him, "You're an idiot."

I'm at the door when Loretta's calming hand sets itself on my shoulder. I turn around, "Loretta, I'd really just like to leave."

Before I can turn, she hugs me out of nowhere. "Stephanie, I'm so sorry."

I hug her back, "It's okay, Loretta, you didn't know."

"If I could do anything…"

"There's nothing left to do but accept it."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, hope you like the chapter. :)

* * *

He's standing at the door, watching me and if it wasn't awkward already, he's making it nearly unbearable.

"Chris, can you please stop staring at me?" I ask him, looking over and glaring at him for a moment. "You're not making this easy."

"This is the point," he tells me point blank, folding his arms over his chest and just watching me, leaning in the doorway as if he's not going to move and if I try, he's rooting himself to the ground. I'm not sure what he thinks I'm going to do, rush him and headbutt him down the stairs? I'm just gathering enough clothes to last me a few days while I stay at my brother's house.

"Why are you so obstinate? It's not like I'm going away forever," I tell him, making a face like this should be obvious to him and it should. I never said that I was leaving his life, just his house. It shouldn't be this traumatic. I don't know what Chris was honestly expecting here. He doesn't love me like that, he's never wanted to be with me like that, so why is he so upset? At some point, he had to figure that our lives would diverge, that one of us would settle down and the other would move out. Or did he just think that we'd spend the rest of our lives just living together as friends?

"You might as well be," he mutters and I stare at him.

"Honestly, Chris, _honestly_?" I shake my head. "Could you be any more of a little boy right now? Chris, at some point, one of us was going to move out and it was probably always going to be me."

"But you don't _have_ to and now you're going to be wasting money getting some place that you don't even need because this house is just as much yours as it is mine," he tries to reason and I have to give him credit for trying to get me to stay, but it's just not going to work. I can't handle it. And now Loretta knowing, I don't know, I kind of feel even more exposed. I know that other people could see it, I know that our coworkers, many of them could see it, but I don't know, his mother knowing is this whole new level of awareness that I'm not comfortable with. I wish the ground would just swallow me up sometimes; I think life would be easier if it just swallowed me up and never spit me back out.

"In case you haven't noticed, I make a ton of money, more than enough to get a little townhouse somewhere or a penthouse apartment in New York if I decide to go there," I let him know. It's not like I'm not going to find anywhere to live. Does Chris think the only houses in our lives are the ones us and our families live in?

"You're not moving to New York," he tells me, no, actually, it sounds more like he's ordering me and I look at him strangely.

"Now you're trying to tell me what I'm going to do and where I'm going to live?" I scoff. Where does he come off? First, he breaks my heart and gets some girl, some insignificant, stupid girl pregnant and now he wants to dictate my life? I take a deep breath and try not to let the anger consume me. I can't let my temper flare again.

"You'll be too far away," he says like that is the be all and end all reason and I should just suddenly realize he's completely right.

"Far away from what?"

"Me."

I laugh, "Chris, the entire point of moving out is to be away from you. New York is not too far away."

"What if I need you? It'll take you probably like an hour or more to get here, that's not efficient. You should look at Stamford or hey, just stay around here in Greenwich! I think that's the best option, guess what, I have a room available for you."

"Cute," I tell him, "very cute."

"I had to at least try," he shrugs, "can you please not move to New York though? I just, I'd really miss you if you were there. I liked being able to walk across the hall and see you, it's going to be weird enough driving five, ten minutes away. I don't think I could take hours."

"Chris, I'm not moving across the country and we travel together as well so it's not like this is going to end our friendship," I tell him. I walk over and hug him. "Please stop acting like a child over this. We're both adults and we have some truths that we need to face."

He hugs me back and buries his face into my neck. He holds me closer and I'm trying not to let my body react to his closeness, remembering that this man is with Barbie, at least he says he's with her, I'm not even sure about that whole thing. What I do know is that he's having a baby with another woman, so at the very least, there's that to deal with. I start to pull away, but he doesn't want to let me go and just folds me into his chest even more.

"I'm scared, Steph," he says, his voice muffled by my neck and I think that's why he says it, because he's so ashamed of the way he feels that he doesn't want to say it out loud, but rather have it muffled so it sinks into my skin somehow.

"Chris," I say sympathetically.

He laughs, a mirthless, hollow laugh, one I'm not used to hearing Chris use. I've only heard it a couple of times in the years and years I've known Chris, but it must be scary, what he's going through right now. He's standing at the edge of this great canyon, looking down and seeing this incredible drop from the norm. I just rub his back as he clings to me, something stable I'm sure, something familiar. It's nice to have someone who has known you so long, knows how you work. Even though Chris doesn't know my real feelings for him, it's just nice to know there is someone around who gets you, has gotten you since you were kids and whose experiences can somewhat match your own.

"It's going to be okay," I whisper into his ear. "Everything is going to be okay."

"It's not," he tells me, "I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I want to do right by Barbie, I want to make sure that she's okay and I don't want my kid to be this mistake. I want my kid to be happy and I know I can make Barbie happy, I know I can. I'm just scared of everything changing and losing you and gaining this family and God, I'm going to be a father and if you're not here to rein me in every now and then, what if I'm horrible?"

"You're not going to be horrible," I tell him, "Declan and Kenny absolutely adore you, Chris."

"I don't spend that much time with them though, not like I'd spend time with my own kid, which would be, what, like a million hours a day."

"Well, considering there _isn't_ a million hours a day, no, but Dec and Kenny do love you, you're cool Uncle Chris and I'm sure you'll be a cool dad and Lord…you'll be a great dad, I just know it."

"Wait, what were you going to say?" he asks. "Finish that statement, Steph."

"What? No, I was just speaking out of turn," I tell him.

"No, you weren't, finish what you were going to say or else I will never let you leave this house, I'll barricade you up in the attic and then you'll never get out because nobody will hear you because the attic is sound-proofed."

"Fine, fie, fine," I say, "I was going to say because Lord knows that Barbie probably isn't going to be the best parent, see, I was going for a disparaging remark about your future…whatever, girlfriend, baby mama, whatever you want to call her."

"I'm sure she'll be okay," he says, but I don't even think he's convinced about that.

"Chris, you do know you don't have to be with this girl if you don't want to," I remind him. I know he wants to play the noble act, but it's not like he has to do that. "We don't live in the 1940's and there's nobody who's going to come after you with pitchforks and torches because you knocked up a girl."

"Her dad might."

"You don't even know her dad," I point out, another problem in this whole fucked up situation. Chris has never met hide nor hair of any of Barbie's relatives. There's no telling what kind of family he's bonding himself to. They could be cannibals for all he knows…they're probably not cannibals though.

"I guess," he says, "but I just want to do right by the kid. I at least have to try with Barbie, just to see if there is something there, I guess. Who knows, she could be the great love of my life and I don't even know it!"

"Yeah, great love of your life," I say sardonically, pulling away from him finally and going back over to my suitcase. I put another couple pairs of underwear inside and I close the top of it. "Okay, so that should last me for about a week. I can come back for the rest of my stuff when I get settled with Shane and Rissa and then I'll just leave the furniture and stuff for when I find a place or you know, maybe I'll just redecorate any new place I get."

"Okay," he appeases me by pretending to be okay with all of this and I appreciate that. I hug him tightly again, just wanting to feel him a little more.

"I love you, Chris," I say, knowing he won't get the true meaning of my words, but I say them anyways, "I'll call you when I get to their place to let you know I arrived safely, okay?"

"Fine," he says and I know he's rolling his eyes without me seeing them. Again, I just know these things, know him so well.

"You'll be okay."

He pretends like he will and he actually grabs my suitcase from me and puts in the car, ever the gentleman. He even watches me drive away and I can already see the loneliness in his eyes, but this is really for the best. Soon, Barbie will be here and they can busy themselves with preparations for the baby. I let myself forget all of that on the drive to Shane and Marissa's. By the time I arrive and park in their space at the parking structure of their building. They have a penthouse with four bedrooms so they have a spare for me. Marissa greets me with a long hug and then smiles that sisterly smile.

"I heard what happened, I'm so sorry."

"You heard what happened where?" I ask her.

"With Chris, that you two had a big fight. His mom called your mom and your mom called Shane and well, yeah, I think only the family knows though, you know, our family and Chris's family since we're pretty much all one big family," Marissa said. "Barbie Blank, I mean, really?"

"He gets drunk and then forgets things and what he's doing," I respond.

"I know, but still, even drunk you'd think he'd have more sense than _that_thing," Marissa says, then cups my face in her hand, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Ris…"

"Stephanie, I love you like a sister, you know this, you've always known this, but honey, let's face it, you've been pretty obvious about your feelings for Chris, at least to me and some other people, not your brother, he's such an idiot sometimes. But I could see it."

"Great," I roll my eyes.

"Chris is an idiot too for never seeing it. God, he had you under his nose for so long and I always thought at some point he'd get it together."

"Not helping, Ris," I tell her drolly. She hasn't even let me in the penthouse and she's already laying on the sympathy and pity.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she says, stepping aside, "but for the record, he is. I mean, _Barbie_. One of your father's less-than-ideal hirings."

"I just want to put my things away, if that's okay with you."

"Of course, honey," she ushers me inside. "I sent Shane and the boys out to get dinner and go to the park or do boy things so you can just rest if you want. I thought you might want some quiet after the drive, I know how bad it gets in the city."

"Thanks," I say as she leads me up to the guest room. She opens the door for me and then leaves me alone to get settled in. The door clicks behind her and I look around the small room. It's cozy enough and clean.

But it's just not home.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, hope you enjoy the chapter. :)

* * *

Being around my nephews really helps to curb the feelings I've had for Chris. It's still weird being here and not at home…or Chris's home, I guess is what it is now. I feel like I'm on some strange visit that just keeps going and going. I've decided that I want to move back to Connecticut. It's closer to work and I just don't feel right in the city. It's funny, when I was younger, all I wanted to do was get out of Greenwich, go somewhere bigger, I chose Boston and it was nice while I was there, but I crave the community I had back home. I guess I just have to find a place now.

"Auntie Stephy, where's Chris? Can he come play too?" Declan asked. The boys loved Chris's playfulness.

"He's not coming today, guys," Stephanie said. "He has other things that he needs to take care of."

"Like what?" Declan asked.

"Just things he needs to do, but maybe when I talk to him later, I'll ask if he wants to come over and see you guys, I know he loves seeing you guys."

"Okay," Declan said.

Despite everything that's been happening, Chris and I still talk every night. It's hard to let go of someone in your life. It's not like cutting a ripcord between the two of us and somehow we're separated. I do need Chris, despite all my protests that we need our time apart. If I'm completely honest with myself, talking with him is still the best part of my day. Pathetic, right? Well, it's not even so much that I'm in love with him, it's just after years of living with him, you come to know a certain kind of intimacy (not that kind, unfortunately) and it's hard to break the habit.

That's why I'm lying on my temporary bed later that evening with my cell phone to my ear. "So what are you wearing?" he jokes with me.

I almost want to tell him the truth, but then I figure, what the hell, he's not here, he's not into me, why not have a tiny bit of fun on his behalf, "I'm wearing nothing but a pair of high heels and smile."

He laughs, "Thanks for the image."

I smile down to myself, looking at my actual outfit, an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants. I usually wear less to bed, but I'm not actually _in_ bed yet. "So how was your day?"

"Hard," Chris said and I could hear him sighing without actually sighing. "Barbie came up and she's here now, I mean, she's not _here_ now, I just…it feels weird sleeping in the same room with her, hell, it feels weird _being_ in the same room as her so I'm in my room and she's in the guest bedroom."

"Have you talked to her?"

"Yeah, we talked over dinner," Chris said, "first we discussed our real options-"

"And?"

"Definitely keeping it," he said, but that wasn't such a surprise to me. Chris was not the type of guy who wouldn't want his child, however said child came into the world. He was great with Shane's kids and she knew that he was great with his cousins' kids as well. Chris was going to be a great father and even thought it was with Barbie, I was glad that he was going to get the opportunity to be a father. He wasn't getting any younger and he should have a child when he was still young enough to enjoy it.

"I thought as much, how is she about the whole thing?"

"She's been…well, she's scared, I guess, I mean, it is her first," Chris tells me and I'm so tempted to ask if it's the first child she's keeping or if it's really the first time she's ever been pregnant. That would be so out of character for me though and I can't force myself to be that rude about someone who was going to be in my best friend's life.

"And you two, how are you two?"

"Well, it's only been one night…"

"That doesn't sound good." And it didn't sound good at all. I could tell the tone of his voice and he was trying to keep upbeat about the entire thing, but he sounded anything but upbeat. I don't know how he thinks that he's going to have an actual relationship with this girl if she's bugging him on the first night they're together.

"It's only the first night, we still have to get used to each other," Chris responds and then I hear a slight shuffling and another voice is suddenly bursting into the conversation.

"Chris, do you have any towels or anything?" I feel slightly bad for listening in, but this could give me some insight into what's going on over there. Despite everything, I'm really curious to see these two in action. I think it's foolhardy of Chris to just jump into a relationship with her because of one drunken night, but it's his life, not mine.

"Yeah, um, they're in the linen closet," he says to her. "Are you okay in the guest room?"

"It's uh, yeah, it's nice, the bed's not exactly comfortable, I was wondering, if it wouldn't be too much trouble if I could try out that other room," Barbie was saying and my mind immediately went to my big, comfortable bed with all the pillows. What the hell was Barbie thinking? "Just to be comfortable."

"What? You mean Stephanie's room?"

"Is that what it is?" Barbie asks and her voice sickens me right now. I could go and puke right now. I don't want her anywhere _near_ my things. "It just looked really comfortable. I'm sure Stephanie wouldn't mind and isn't this like, your house now? I mean, wasn't it always your house and she just kind of lived here with you because she had nowhere else to go?"

"It wasn't like that at all," Chris defends me and I smile a little as I listen in. I probably should hang up right now and have Chris call me back, but I can't bring myself to do that. I have to listen, just for a little while. I can feel bad later, or not, who knows, maybe I just don't care that I'm listening in on this.

"Oh, it wasn't, but that's what everyone said it was, that's what _you_ said it was," Barbie said.

"No, what I said was that Stephanie came to live with me after she graduated college because her _parents_ didn't want her living along. She had and still has plenty of places to go, I wanted her here, didn't you listen to me when we were talking to you?"

"I must have misheard then, so…can I sleep in there?"

"No you can't sleep in there!" He's angry right now and I do a little silent cheer of victory. It's wrong of me to want their relationship to fail, but if I'm ever going to stand a chance with Chris, then I've got to root for the end of this disaster and so I silently cheer and don't feel one whit of guilt over it. "That's Stephanie's room, you can't just go in there, she's still…that's still…don't go in there, okay?"

"Okay, God, you don't have to get all defensive or whatever," Barbie says and I can just see her crossing her arms over her perky boobs and glaring at him. "It's not like you love her or anything…oh wait, I know what this is, oh my God, you and Stephanie were sex buddies, right!"

I nearly choke on my own spit over that one and I don't hear anything over the other end of the phone for a few moments and in those few moments, I think my entire head tries to go inside my phone so I can be there for this part of the conversation. I know as well as anyone that Chris and I haven't slept together, but to see his face, I would give anything to see his face right now. Is he horrified, is he surprised, is there a chance he's thinking about what that might look like and getting slightly aroused (I can probably be back in Connecticut before midnight if it's that last one)?

"I don't even know what to say to that," Chris finally says.

"Dude, if we're going to be like, together, and I think I want to try this since we're…having this baby and everything and you want to be the good guy in all of this, I think it's my right to know if you have Stephanie on the side and if you're boning her. I won't be mad as long as you dump her before we go to my parents and declare that we're all together and whatever."

"I'm not sleeping with Stephanie," Chris answers. "I don't even know where that would come up."

"You don't? Are you kidding me?" Barbie scoffs. "Chris, _everyone_ thinks you and Stephanie have been fucking each other for years, I think everyone was just too nice to say it to your face. But yeah, everyone thought so."

"She's my best friend."

"Since when is it a crime to have sex with your best friend?" Barbie says and I don't know if I want to kiss her or kill her. I might kiss her if this awakens something in Chris's psyche that might have feelings for me, but I might kill her for bringing this up and putting distance between me and Chris. I don't know what her game is here. Maybe she's really too stupid to have a game.

"It's not, but we haven't, okay, so just, stay out of her room, got it?"

"Fine, touchy, sorry," Barbie tells him, "goodnight."

"Night," he tells her and then it's probably a minute before he remembers that he left me on the phone. "If you're any kind of friend, you will pretend like you didn't hear that entire conversation."

"I could," I tell him, but there was too much in that conversation for me to just ignore, but some of it, for our sake, I will, "Chris, you two aren't exactly functioning like you said you were…that sounds more than getting to know you…sounded like fighting."

"It wasn't, not really," he lies, but I'm not there to call him on it. I need to see his face, the blue of his eyes to properly call him out on his lies.

"_That_ wasn't fighting? Chris…"

"It wasn't. It was just me telling her that she can't sleep in your room, I don't think that's an unreasonable request. You may have moved out, but it's still your room and as far as I'm concerned, it'll always be your room."

"Until you have a baby and make it into a nursery or something."

"No, no, we can use the guest bedroom for that," Chris tells me, "I'm not going to use your room. I'm still hoping you'll come to your senses and come back home."

"Well, you'll be happy to note that I'm moving to Connecticut. I don't want to live in new York, I want to live back there and so I will be looking for places in the area. You'll be able to see me all the time and I'm going to be a great surrogate aunt for your kid."

"I like the thought of that," he admits and I smile wistfully. It's kind of sad thinking about what could have been. Instead of being some weird aunt that hangs around, I wonder what it would be like to have Chris's baby. I can just imagine how much he'd dote over me and want to be at every appointment. I bet he'll do all that with Barbie, once they get over this…thing of arguing like they are. "Scout, about what Barbie said…"

"Listen, Jem," I tell him, "we better not go there, right?"

"No, I just…what she said about everyone thinking that…"

"Chris, I'm sure everyone has thought that at some point in our lives. I'm sure even in high school everyone assumed that you took my virginity or something," I laugh, if only! "It's not a big deal if we don't make it a big deal. Barbie will get over it."

"Yeah, I'm sure she will, I just don't want anyone getting the wrong idea about you. I don't want anyone thinking that you just have casual sex whenever you want or something. I wouldn't do that to you…if we were sleeping together, not that we've ever, I mean, you would've known if we had."

"Chris Irvine, are you flustered?" I smirk and then feel my cheeks burning a little bit. So he _has_ pictured us doing…whatever we're doing in his mind.

"No, of course not, I just don't want…I don't want people thinking that kind of stuff about you. I'll talk to Barbie about it."

Why must Barbie always come into the conversation? "Chris, really, I wouldn't worry about it. Just…don't worry about it, worry about Barbie and…doing whatever you're doing."

"Stephanie, if we don't work out, Barbie and I, do you think I'd be a failure?" he asks honestly.

"Chris, you could never be a failure to me."


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, everyone, much appreciated. I know this is not in the rotation for updating, but this story was just demanding it be written so I made the exception. Hope you enjoy and reviews are pretty and nice! :)

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"Hey there, sweetie, how are you doing?"

I look up from the book I'm reading to see Marissa standing in the doorway. "Hey, Ris, what's up?"

"This is what's up," she says, holding up some draped hangers.

"Um, okay, what's that?" I ask, not seeing where she's going with this.

"My sexiest dresses, most of which I haven't worn because I usually buy things and never wear them, I know, that's horrible isn't it," she tells me, "but they are all sexy and nobody has ever seen them and we are dressing you up for them tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes, tonight," she nods.

"Ris, we're only going to my mom and dad's for the usual dinner that we have whenever everyone is home."

"I know _that_," Marissa says to me, obviously, but then she comes closer, "but you know that Ted, Loretta, and Chris always come because they're practically family and that means Chris is going to be there and that means you are going to knock him dead."

Oh God, now I can see what Marissa is trying to pull and I groan. I've been trying to keep myself occupied since I left home. When I was living with Chris, I'd always have someone to hang out with. Here, it's different. Shane is usually busy with work so when he's at home, he wants to spend it with his family. Marissa is so busy with the kids that she doesn't have time to just hang out and watch a movie. It's not that I don't like being with my family, it's just that I feel lonely and I've been trying to find ways to just not…think about things.

I'm also trying not to think of tonight. Whenever everyone is at home, we all try to have family dinners. I hate that Chris's family is coming, but they've been coming to dinners like this for the past 29 years so it's not like I can just act like a petulant child now and tell my parents not to invite them…or rather, invite Chris. Barbie is there and I think that she'll probably come to my parent's tonight and I just don't want to see her on my territory, with someone who would be much better suited with me (yes, I'm reaching, give me a break).

"I don't want to knock him dead, Ris."

"Yes, you do, you know you do," Marissa has this gleam in her eye when she says this and I'm wondering if she ever did this with my brother in the few times they took a break. They've been seeing each other forever that all her experience is usually with my brother. And knowing my brother, he probably got super jealous of anything Marissa tried to do.

"I really don't," I tell her, "look, I like Chris, you know this-"

"You _love_ Chris, there's a big difference," Marissa flops down on the bed, setting the clothes (that I haven't even seen yet) on the bed next to her. "You've got o fight for what you want, Steph. I mean, you can't just let Barbie win."

"Win? It's not a game, life is not a game and she's having his _child_," I point out, a fact that Marissa seems to have forgotten. "It's not like this is some fling, there's a child resulting in this."

"Yeah, if it's his," Marissa scoffs and I tilt my head to look at her, "what, like I'm saying anything that you're not thinking. I know we both think it, at least a little bit. So let Chris make the decision. A kid ain't married, Stephanie, and if it is his kid, then he can still be a father and not have to suffer through Barbie. I had to talk with her at the Christmas party, I could kill Shane for that one by the way, and she is as dim as a bulb. She's not even that pretty. I mean, okay, let's go over this."

I roll my eyes, "Ris, let me just read my book."

"Never, nerd," Marissa teases, grabbing the book from me and tossing it onto the bed. "I want to find the perfect dress, then I'm going to do your hair and makeup and you are going to look so pretty. Now, back to it, I mean, okay, so you are so much prettier than Barbie, first of all, she's a bleach blonde and you've got your beautiful brunette hair-"

"I need a haircut," I finger the ends of my hair, looking distastefully at the split ends.

"Your hair is great, Barbie has squinty eyes, poor kid will probably have those while you have those gorgeous eyes and it's like, are they blue? Are they gray, what are they?"

"They're not really all that spectacular."

"Of course they are, plus you've got that curvy figure-"

"Read, fatter than Barbie."

"Please, you are so pretty, Steph, let me help you," Marissa pleads. "I even talked to Loretta and she agrees with me-"

"Wait, wait, wait, you talked with _Loretta_ about me," I'm mortified. The last thing I need is sympathy from Chris's mother. I know Loretta sees me as a daughter, but this is not how I want things to go. I've always kind of felt that if Chris wants to be with me then he should come to me. I don't want to force his feelings or anything, I would just feel like this desperate spinster or something, is that still a thing? I'm not even sure.

"Yeah, I mean, she knows and everything, she called over here while you took Declan and Kenny to the park yesterday and she wanted to talk to you, see how you were doing and well, one thing led to another and we both realized that we knew you were in love with Chris and so she thought it would be great to show him what he's missing."

I cannot believe people are talking about my (lack of) love life behind my back. "Don't do that, don't talk about me like that. Besides, if I did dress up, I'd be the only one dressed up. Usually I just go to these dinners in jeans and a t-shirt."

"Well this time will be different," she says to me, "look, I'll dress up too and look real nice and then it won't seem weird that you look nice. We can just say that we had a spa day and thought we'd dress up for dinner."

"There's no way I'm getting talked out of this, am I?" Marissa shakes her head and then makes a grab for the clothes. "I can't believe I'm allowing you to do this, but understand, I'm _only_ doing this because it will get you off my back, I in no way think that this is going to even so much as influence Chris in any way."

"Oh, we'll see," Marissa says, raising her eyebrows mischievously. I can't believe I'm giving myself over to her.

I let her do her thing though. We compromise on the dress. Most of the dresses she pulls out, I wouldn't wear if I had nothing in my closet, dresses that are too tight, too low, too…everything. No wonder Marissa never wears them, Shane probably wouldn't let her out of their house with them on. We settle on a cute, white dress. It's rather low cut in the front with a low, but not too deep v-cut and spaghetti straps. The dress is overlaid with a cream chiffon fabric with lacework on it. I look good in it, kind of innocent and feminine, but the way that Marissa does my hair and makeup brings a kind of edge to it.

She curls my hair, then blows it out so it's wavy and loose on my shoulders, but with lots of volume. She gives me a smoky eye and shiny lip gloss. When I look at myself in the mirror, I'm not even sure I recognize myself. I'm so used to looking kind of plain and mostly business-like. When I'm working, I go for comfort over glamorous and my makeup is toned down during the day because I'm dealing with work and not trying to look good. I do look good right now, it's strange, but I do feel a little more confident. Marissa keeps her promise and gets dressed up too and we kind of look like we're going to a club and not a family dinner.

"Wow, what is with you two?" Shane asks as we walk out of the bedroom. He's sitting with the boys, waiting for us so we can drive to Connecticut.

"What?" Marissa asks sweetly, like she has no idea that she's been conniving all afternoon.

"You two look like you're going to some red carpet event and not dinner at Mom and Dad's. Last time I checked, we didn't have to dress up." Shane is in a pair of slacks and a polo shirt, nothing fancy at all. Marissa and I are going to look so out of place, but I'm glad I at least have one partner-in-crime.

"Is it so wrong that we want to look nice?" Marissa challenges him. "We're girls, sometimes we're in moods, so shut up."

"Okay, geez," he says, then gets up, "you both look beautiful though, for what it's worth."

"That's more like it," Marissa kisses his cheek. I love their repertoire. The two of them have known each other since they were kids. I can't even really remember a time in my life where Marissa wasn't in it. I'm jealous of it too. I could have that, I could have _that_, just like that because I can't remember a time in my life that Chris wasn't in as well. "Okay, let's get out of here and go so we can get there on time, I hate it when your dad gives us that look like being late is a cardinal sin."

We all pile into Marissa's van and start the drive to Connecticut. Shane and Marissa spend the entire time talking about something, I'm not paying attention, all I'm doing is staring out the window at the passing scenery. Now that the dinner is here and I'm all made up and have nothing to argue with Marissa about (she originally thought I should wear a deep red lipstick) all I can think about is the fact that Barbie is more than likely going to be there. Since Chris's parents know and Barbie and Chris are giving things a shot (whatever that means really), there's no way she doesn't come to the family dinners, there's just no way.

So that means the thing I've been fearing is going to happen. I'm going to have to see them as a couple. I'm going to have to look at Barbie and think about how she's giving Chris something that I can't. I've given him friendship, my time, everything for the past 29 years, but I certainly haven't given him a child. Now there's this _baby_ growing inside of her and how can I compete with that. That baby is going to be Chris's world for the next 18 or so years and I can't…there's nothing I can do to stop or change that.

"Earth to Stephanie!"

I slowly turn my head to Shane who is gesturing around him and I only then realize that we're already at my parent's house. How did we even get here? Was that _that_ tuned out? Apparently I was. I scramble out of the car, nearly tripping on my heels. The only reason I don't fall is because Shane is getting out as well and catches my arm. I look up at him gratefully, but he just rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath about how stupid high heels are and I agree for the most part. They're uncomfortable and well, they're really uncomfortable, need there be more?

I start walking towards the door where Marissa and the boys are waiting for me and Shane. We walk up to the door and ring the doorbell, even though we all have keys. The housekeeper answers the door and lets us all in, telling us that everyone is already here. I knew that Ted and Loretta would be, they live across the street, but I was hoping that Chris and Barbie hadn't arrived yet so I could at least plot out what I was going to say and how I was going to act. No such luck though.

Marissa grabs my arm and we stroll into the living room. There they are. Chris is standing next to Barbie, not touching her thank God, talking to his dad about something while Barbie just stands there. Barbie's in a dress too, the little…wait, no, name-calling doesn't become anyone. The housekeeper announces our presence and Chris turns around for a moment to look at us, then does a double take when he sees me. He abandons all conversation to walk over to me, Barbie half-heartedly and probably nervously trailing after him.

"Wow," Chris breathes out and Marissa is squeezing my arm tighter. "Steph…you look…wow."

"Thanks," I swallow hard, "Marissa and I had a spa day and decided to get dressed up."

"You look, I can't…wow," he has no words and I've never in my life rendered Chris speechless. The only disconcerting part of it is that this isn't me, not the normal me anyways. I don't think I've ever gotten that response…wait, no, no, I have, but that was prom and really, that was playing dress-up too. Just once, I'd love for him to see me at my worst, to see me with tears streaming down my face, mascara making me look like a raccoon, my hair disheveled and uncombed, in my rattiest pair of sweatpants and tell me that I'm the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen. Isn't that what anyone wants?

"You really look pretty, Stephanie," Barbie chimes in politely.

"Thanks, Barbie," I smile politely in return.

"Um, you too…Mrs. McMahon," she addresses Marissa and she, Chris, and I involuntarily snicker.

"Yeah, don't call me that," Marissa says, "talk about strange, just call me Marissa. I mean, you're practically part of the family now, aren't you?" She gives a hard stare to Chris, who has the decency to look sheepish in the situation. "Chris is like the slightly older brother I never had. We all grew up together, me, Shane, Chris, and Stephanie, we've all known each other since we were kids."

"That's cool," Barbie said.

"Yeah, it is, we just know each other so well, so very, very well," Marissa gives that smile of hers that terrifies people. For someone who is so warm and friendly, she can be vicious.

"Who wants drinks?" Linda announces to the room.

"We better…get a drink," I say softly to Chris and Chris alone.

He nods, "Yeah, we…drinks sound good." He turns and leads Barbie away as Marissa gives an almost silent squeal.

"Did you see him, Stephanie!"

"Shut up, Ris."

"The boy was practically drooling!"

"He was not," I lie because he couldn't keep his eyes off me, but it's like looking at a false idol. Nothing that he sees right now is real. I'm flashy, kind of like Barbie and then it hits me that that's probably part of the reason they hooked up in the first place. Gag me.

"Oh trust me, Stephanie, he was."


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing, hope you enjoy the chapter. :)

* * *

"Hey, needed a breather?"

Chris looks over his shoulder at me. We'd just finished dinner and it had been uncomfortable at best. It was like everyone was aware that someone who was there wasn't really supposed to be there. We all tried our best to include Barbie, but I could tell that everyone was looking at her with a critical eye. Everyone except her had known each other for nearly 30 years at that point. Chris and his parents had moved across the street 29 years ago, Marissa's family had lived three houses down the road since she was 7. We all had a rapport and then this girl tries to infiltrate us and suddenly, we're cold and unfeeling.

I have to admit, I hadn't been putting forth my best effort. I'm pretty sure I talked to everyone at that table _except_ Chris and Barbie. Whenever Barbie or Chris asked me a question, I was short with them. I should apologize, but everyone else was doing it and maybe mob mentality can rule over politeness just this once. I should have been nicer though. Chris is my best friend, regardless of the girls he impregnates, and I should try to make a better effort because like it or not, Barbie is in our lives now, all of ours and we have to accept that…I have to accept that.

"Hey, Scout," he says affectionately, scooting over on the bench that sits right outside my parents sliding door. It looks over the enormous expanse of backyard, right over the pool and to the land surrounding it, plush green grass that always felt so nice on my bare fee in the summers growing up. Chris actually taught me to swim in that pool. I'd been sporting the ever-stylish floaties look and Chris, taking pity on me, had told me he was going to teach me to swim. He'd been patient and sweet with me, at least that's what I can remember. I was only eight at the time and he was ten and it'd taken a couple of days, but I'd gotten really good at swimming.

I sit next to him and I don't really want to touch him, but I lightly do on the shoulder, giving him a supportive squeeze. "What are you doing out here by yourself?"

"In case you haven't noticed, that house is filled with tension," he laughs nervously.

"Oh come on, could it possibly be more tension than when you'd said you signed with WCW? I mean, that night was pretty bad. I don't think my dad talked to you for weeks."

Chris laughs again, but it's an easier laugh this time. "I thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head that night. I was so nervous to tell him because I knew what his reaction would be and he didn't disappoint."

"So see, nothing is ever as bad as you think it is," I tell him. "I mean, yes, that was…that was pretty rough in there, but it's just because we're not used to newcomers. This is the first time we've ever had someone else over for dinner in a very long time. The only other times we have other people over are when we have Marissa's family and we've known them forever too."

"God, yes, I do hate whenever Chet comes over," Chris says as he makes a gagging sound. Chet is Marissa's older brother and nobody can stand him. He is about the jerkiest guy you could ever meet. He's three years older than Chris and Shane, but you would think he was seventeen years younger than all of us with the way he behaves. We hate having him over.

"Me too," I shudder, "but we're just not used to having Barbie over here, but I'm sure we will, you know, when we get used to the situation."

"Thanks," he says. "I know it's weird, believe me, I wish it wasn't. I wish…I mean, I wish this had never happened. Is that horrible of me? I feel horrible for even thinking it, but I hate this. I hate how everything has changed so suddenly. You know how I am."

"For a guy that used to have no house and traveled from country to country, you sure don't like change," I nudge him in the shoulder.

"Just not the big changes," he admits. "I don't want to hate my kid, but I'm kind of hating this kid, just because why did they have to come at this time? I'm not ready to be a dad, I'm not ready to be with someone for a long time. I don't do commitment, I'm not good at it and plus I have to be committed to this kid…"

"You'll do fine, you're just nervous right now because it's still new. You probably haven't even gotten to see a sonogram or anything of the kid, right?"

"No, not yet, since Barbie's not so far along, they wanted to wait until she was at least 12 weeks before they do any kind of ultrasound," he tells me.

"So see, you probably just don't feel an attachment yet because you haven't really gotten to see the kid yet. I hear that once you see it, that's when it all kind of comes together, you know, becomes real. It probably doesn't even really feel real right now." It's hard being supportive of him. I picture a time that will never be of me lying on some table, stomach exposed with Chris squeezing my hand so tight I feel like he's going to break it in anticipation of seeing a little dot on a fuzzy monitor.

"You're probably right."

"I know I'm right. You know, it wasn't very nice of you to leave her to the wolves like that in there," I gesture towards the house. "She's probably going to get cornered by your mom and interrogated within an inch of her life."

"Like I could have prevented that even if I was in there," Chris jokes and it's true, Loretta would probably still interrogate Barbie until the blonde was cowering in her shoes. Not that I blame her in this instance, with Barbie actually pregnant with Chris's child, Loretta has every right to see what the woman carrying her only child's child is like.

"You've got me there, can't fault you with that logic."

"Besides, I just needed a minute to myself."

"I feel like the odd man out now," I kid, "I'm the only one who doesn't have anyone. There's your mom and dad, my mom and dad, Shane and Rissa, now you and Barbie, I'm the old maid in there. I should sit at the kiddie table with Declan and Kenny."

"Oh come on, like you couldn't have any guy you wanted," Chris says, the irony of the words hitting me hard in the chest. I sigh imperceptibly and he doesn't notice or pretends not to notice. "You're just to pick is what it is, but believe me, if you wanted someone, they would be falling over their feet to be with you."

"That's not true," I respond and that's the God honest truth. I have wanted Chris for so long and the last thing he's doing is falling over his feet to be with me. If I were a braver person, I would tell him that right now, but then what kind of person would that make me. How could I confess my love for him when he's got a woman (girl?) carrying his child not 15 feet away inside the house, a girl he's trying to make things work with. I can't do that. I can't be that kind of person. It would feel petty and mean at this point. Oh, who am I kidding, even if there was no pregnant woman, I would still keep my stupid mouth shut.

"It _is_ true. I know like fifty guys right now who would love the chance to go out with you."

"For my name," I add, which is probably the truth.

"No, not for your name, for you, for who you are," he tells me. "I can't imagine a guy not wanting you. You really could have anyone."

"I really couldn't."

"Why do you even say that? It's not true," he argues, his voice raising a little bit in anger. "Stop thinking so lowly of yourself, you could have anyone you wanted."

"Chris, it's not true, I'm just stating a fact, okay, there are plenty of people I've wanted and haven't been able to have, it's just a fact of life and you saying that every guy would want me is false and not helping."

"Name one guy who wouldn't want you then?"

Putting me on the spot, hate it, do not want it, and I want out of this situation now. "Let's just drop it okay, I'm fine with being single. I don't need anyone right now."

"You know, you look beautiful tonight," he changes the subject or so I think he's changing the subject, it did just come out of the blue.

"Thanks, Marissa thought it would be fun, you know, dress up, look good, feel good, I think that's her philosophy. This dress is actually hers, not that she's ever worn it, but you know that I don't really have anything like this." I gesture towards the dress I'm wearing, which is very much out of the range of stuff that I wear. I've always been more conservative, never cleavage in your face like I am right now.

"Yeah, I have to agree," he tells me, "I think you look good all the time. You dressed up is beautiful and I do think you look beautiful tonight, but you could look beautiful in a pair of sweats and that stupid, ratty, hole-filled shirt that you refuse to get rid of."

I laugh and look down. I think back to earlier when he was so wowed by me and how I wished that he could see me at my worst and still think I was beautiful. He just has to be perfect and point out that he _does_ like me when I'm not wearing any makeup or dressed in old, crappy clothes. He just has to make me fall for him even more when the possibility of us gets further and further away.

"Well, it's not a permanent change," I tell him, my voice catching the tiniest bit.

"I should hope not, I wouldn't want you to change," he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "There aren't a lot of constants in my life, but you're one of them, Scout. You've always been there for me and even though we're not living together anymore, I'm really glad that you're still here for me."

"Where else could I go? You know everything about me, if I ran, you'd find me, you did before, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did, I'm good like that," Chris says, then he gives a sigh, "I guess we better go back inside, right? We're starting to get into rude territory at this point and I don't want Barbie to think I just ditched her."

"Of course," I nod and he helps me up before we walk back into the house. He kisses my cheek and then disappears into the living room to go find Barbie I presume. I close the sliding door behind me and when I go to turn around, my arm is caught by someone and I'm suddenly moving towards the hallway off the kitchen where my dad's study is. I'm pushed into the room and I look over my shoulder at Loretta. "Loretta, what's going on?"

"We cannot let my son be with that woman," Loretta hisses at me. "I can't stand her, Stephanie. There is nothing between her ears. We have to get you two together."

"Loretta, he's having a baby with her, you can't just get rid of her."

"He certainly doesn't need to be with her to have a child with her and I do not want my son with her. There's settling and then there's _settling_ and that's what my son is doing and I'm not going to stand for it. I saw the way he was looking at you when you walked in. We have to build on that."

"Loretta, I think you're going a little too crazy here."

"You love my son, don't you?"

"I'm not comfortable discussing this with you," I cringe, trying to find a way out of this situation. I would much rather just keep going as I was, loving Chris from afar, never saying anything, and never risking the rejection and embarrassment that would come along with admitting my feelings for him. It's safer that way. I'm just more comfortable with the safe and cowardly way of doing things. That way, my heart doesn't get completely smashed.

"Oh, I'm practically like your mother," Loretta say, dismissing everything I just said. "We're going to figure this out and we're going to get you my son because that's what's right."

"Loretta, it's not like you can just will it and be done with it."

"He loves you, Stephanie."

"You don't know that," I shake my head. I can't imagine Chris as the type to keep that in. I might be, but not him.

"You don't see the way he looks at you and you don't know him like I know him."

"Loretta, please, I think you're way off base here. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but the Chris/Stephanie boat sailed a long time ago and it's time that we both moved on, I mean, I moved on, it's not like he has to move on from anything. I'm ready to not be so hung up on him anymore."

Lies, but well, if I say it enough, I'll start to believe it.

"I'm not taking no for an answer here," she shrugs and I'm caught in a trap it seems.

"Please, Loretta."

"Stephanie, when I see something right in front of my eyes, I'm going to have to get it for you."

"Not this time, please, I'm serious here."

"Barbie is all wrong for him."

"Then can we please let Chris figure that one out for himself?"

"I don't want that."

"But don't you think that it's the right thing to do. I know you love him and I know you want what's best for him-"

"You."

"Thank you," I say graciously, "but if Chris doesn't want to be with Barbie, he has to decide that for himself."

I only hope he makes the right decision in the end.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, hope you enjoy the chapter. :)

* * *

"So Barbie wants to set you up."

I look at Chris like he's crazy and he might as well be. The irony of the situation is so thick I might drown in it. Of all the people in the world, this is the person saying they want to set me up? If the floor could just swallow me up right now, it would be very convenient. I want _her_ man, not some other guy. I try to hold off my cringe, but it takes all my strength and even then, I'm not sure that I don't have a grimace or something on my face. I'm just lucky Chris doesn't seem to be looking directly at me as he adjusts his wrist tape.

"She wants to set me up? But why?" I manage to squeak out.

"Well, when we were at dinner the other night, she said that you…uh, that you looked kind of…sad…"

"Are you saying that she thinks I'm pathetic?"

Now I'm just downright insulted. Where does she get off thinking that I'm pathetic? I'm not the one who got pregnant with someone I wasn't even with. She doesn't know anything about me or anything about how I operate and there she is, feeling sorry for me? As if I couldn't stand her before. God, I've tried so hard to think nice things about this girl, but she is making it increasingly difficult. I don't know how I'll go the rest of my life being Chris's best friend with that…girl in his life.

"I don't think she thinks that," Chris shakes his head and he's looking embarrassed by the entire thing and he should be. Now he's doing his baby mama's dirty work. "I think she just thought that it would be nice to set you up with someone. She says that she has someone that she thinks you'll like."

"How does she know what I like?" Stephanie asked. "How can she possibly know? I've been at dinner with her one time, does she have psychic abilities or something? Can she read my mind? I don't think so or she'd be a little surprised."

"Look, I just feel bad because she's been having some bad morning sickness and this seemed to cheer her up and I'm trying to do my best here, okay, do you think I like this, of course I don't, as far as I'm concerned, no guy is ever going to be truly good enough for you, but I want her to feel better."

My mind starts buzzing after he says that no man is going to be good enough for me, "You don't think anyone is good enough for me? But you tell me all the time I can have any guy I want."

"There's a difference between you being able to get any guy you want and any guy you want being good enough for you," he tells me, rolling his eyes like it should have been obvious. I wonder what he would think if I told him that the guy I want is him and does he not think himself worthy enough for me?

"Still, the fact that you're letting her do this…"

"I don't know what else to do to make her feel better!"

"Well it's certainly not going to be setting me up with a stranger!" I yell at him and I'm not even sure when this turned into a fight. He was just supposed to help me look at places to live, but here we are, arguing in some walk-in closet in the second home we've looked at. I hope the realtor doesn't show up and hear us.

It's already bad enough that she assumed we were husband and wife, even going so far as to comment on how we were such a good-looking couple. The laugh that Chris gave as he explained was punishment enough, but now his stupid girlfriend is trying to set me up. I storm out of the closet and down the hallway, turning into what could be a great space for an office. I stand in the middle of the room, trying to picture my stuff in here and placing things invisibly.

"Look, I'm sorry if I've offended you, I was just trying to make her feel better, it's partially my fault that she feels so crappy."

"I'm well aware," I say, my voice lowering into a mutter, but I don't care if he hears or not.

"What is your problem?"

"What's my problem, I don't have a problem," I don't turn to face him because if he sees my face, he'll see there's a whole myriad of problems and I'm not in the mood to discuss them with him right now…or ever.

"Yeah right, I know you," Chris tells me, "I know when something is wrong. I'm sorry for what Barbie wanted to do, I'll tell her that it's not a good idea, but I just brought it up because I thought you might be into it."

"Whatever," I tell him and I know I'm being petulant, but I just want him to go away and not talk to me for a while. I don't want to feel like he's smothering me. I don't hate Chris, I just…I need space away from him. I never should have invited him along to look at houses with me.

The realtor thankfully walks in right then, but my ease is short-lived, "This is a great space, isn't it? It could be an office, guest bedroom, or, down the line, the perfect space for a baby."

I glance over at Chris and then avert my eyes, "Yes, it's a great space."

"So what do you think of the place? If you want to make an offer, we can get on the paperwork as soon as possible."

"Oh, well, I'm still thinking it over," I tell her, "I'm not sure this is the right place for me. I'm just kind of looking right now, not sure exactly what I wanted."

"Okay, well, if you do like it, let me know," she leaves the room, probably to see if there's anyone else at this open house willing to make an offer. That makes it easier to slip out of here. Suddenly, I just want to get out of Chris's sight.

"I'm going to go," I tell Chris, pushing past him. "You can go back home, I'm going to head over to my parent's house. I promised my mom that I would have lunch with her and your mom."

"Stephanie, come on," he chases after me as I leave the room, but I ignore him. Sometimes I just really want to cry when I'm around him, whirl around with my eyes blazing and wonder why the hell he's never looked at me like I want him to look. I want to rage at him and ask why the hell he ended up in bed with Barbie Blank of all people. How drunk was he to fall into bed with that tramp?

I walk downstairs and out the door, knowing full well that Chris is right behind me. I'm thankful we took two cars here so I don't have to deal with him in one car. I think I might just drive off the road if I'm forced to deal with Chris in an enclosed space. He grabs me by the arm and pulls me down to the sidewalk and away from the house where people might hear us. I don't look at him and, instead, I try to get away. He won't let me though and he's much stronger than I am.

"Would you stop?" he asks.

"I'm not doing anything, I've got places to go, people to see," I tell him, talking in lame clichés. My arms are folded under my breasts and I have my fists balled up and I want to kick something or punch something. I shouldn't be angry just because that stupid, little whore wants to set me up, but I'm mad and I want to punch her in her stupid, ugly face.

"Stephanie, would you calm down? I'm sorry if I offended you, I guess I didn't realize that it was going to upset you so much, but don't worry, I won't make you do it, I promise."

"Do it," I say and I don't really know what I'm saying at this point. I don't know what's going on in my head and I don't know what Chris is thinking, but he must think that I'm crazy as well because his look goes from concerned to even more concerned and downright surprised. I don't blame him because I don't know where that even came from. One second I wanted to punch him in the face and now I don't know what I'm doing.

Maybe I just want to get back at him, get back at her too. Maybe if I go on this stupid date, I'll actually have fun and then I'll forget about Chris and then and only then will he fall in love with me and then I can rub it in his face that he had 20 years to have a shot at me and never took it and now he was too late. I might actually enjoy that, seeing him suffer like that. But then I think about it and I'm not suffering because of him. He has no idea what I'm going through because I've never actually told him what was going on with me. It's not his fault.

Then I think about who Barbie could possibly set me up with and I want to puke. I can't imagine any of her friends are in any way intelligent. I just picture her surrounded by a bunch of meatheads and bimbos and do I really want to subject myself to that? Not really, but now Chris is looking at me like he wants to tuck me into his pocket and never let me leave. "What do you mean, do it?" he asks me and I can see him biting the inside of his mouth and I'm just a little bit smug about this.

"I'm tired of fighting and I should be nicer to Barbie," I lie my face off, something that comes with being a McMahon, we're as smooth as silk, "plus, I don't want her to feel like crap so if it'll make her feel better, then go ahead. I'm tired of fighting you."

"Are you sure?" he asks and now it looks like he's put out by me agreeing to this. But isn't that what he wanted in the first place? He's the one that brought it up and I'm just agreeing to go along with it. But then, maybe this goes along with his "no guy is ever good enough for you" credo that he was just spouting.

"What's the harm? It helps her out and everything," I shrug, trying to leave it at that.

"We can make it a double date," he says eagerly.

"Wait, wait, wait, I never agreed to go out on a double date with you," I shake my head. It's bad enough that I'm going on a date with someone I don't know at all, but it's a whole other thing to do it while watching Chris and Barbie attempting to be domestic.

"It'll be fun," Chris says and he looks at me with hopeful eyes, "that way it's not awkward for anyone."

And that's how I find myself out on a double date with three people I don't want to be around. Usually Chris would be one of the people I want to be around, but he has his arm wrapped around Barbie and if my eyes were suddenly lasers, Chris would find himself minus one arm. I look over at my own date, Danny is his name, and he smiles at me politely. I can tell he likes me because when he first saw me, I think I saw his tongue roll out of his mouth and I suddenly regretted wearing this top. It shows too much.

"So you're pretty powerful, Barbie tells me," he says and I nod.

"I guess," I answer and I spear Chris with a look of helplessness and he just raises his eyebrows in apology

"Do you want to dance?" Danny asks, gesturing towards the dance floor in the middle of the restaurant we're at. I take a deep breath and put on my best smile and let him grab my hand and pull me to my feet.

We go out to the dance floor and he takes me in his arms and I press away from him a little bit because I don't want to be pressed up against him. "So you and Chris ever sleep together?"

"Excuse me?"

"I was getting a vibe over there," Danny says and I'm perplexed and he can see it because he continues, "I don't know, the way you two were looking at each other, it was like there was this tension and I was just wondering if you used to date or something."

"No, nothing like that, we've just known each other for almost 30 years."

"Oh, that'll do it," he laughs, "Barbie and I slept together a couple times."

"Um, okay," I say, not sure what to say about that.

"I just wanted to get that out there if this thing turns into anything," he's not doing a great job right now ensuring that there'll be a second date. "It was a while ago and it meant nothing, but it just kind of happened a couple times, Barbie's a little like that, I'm actually surprised she didn't get herself knocked up sooner."

How am I supposed to answer that? "Well, I don't know, I guess…I guess she wasn't so careful this time."

"She never is, she's a little on the…I hate to say loose side, but she's not exactly what you'd call…good at keeping it to herself…"

"I don't…know about that…"

"Sorry, I guess I shouldn't say this since she's with your friend and all," he says and actually, it's kind of good that he told me. I'd had my suspicions and now they've just been confirmed. I figured she was like that, what from the rumors, but it brings an uneasy feeling to the pit of my stomach.

What if Chris really _isn't_ that kid's father?


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and faves and everything, hope you'll enjoy this chapter. :)

* * *

I know it's probably the jealousy talking.

I know this and still, I get that nagging thought in the back of my brain that I'm not wrong. I know there's a chance that I'm just projecting what I want onto the situation, but after Barbie's friend told me about her, I can't help but start to think it's not conjecture. I'm not saying that it _can't_ be Chris's. I mean, he says they slept together, even if he can't remember it. Still, I'm not going to start calling him a liar.

But what if there's more than one person she was sleeping with? I wasn't the one who said she was loose. Not to say that I haven't thought it, but I've never actually had the proof to say that she was. If her friend, someone she considers a _friend_, says that she's loose, then she's probably loose and I can't say that I'm surprised by it. For someone so young, she really carries herself in a way that is kind of disgusting. I know, catty again, but I can't help what I think.

How can I broach this subject with Chris though? I don't think I can without hurting his feelings or alienating us even more. I haven't really spoken to him after that stupid date. It was his whatever's idea and now he's not talking to me. Or the other way around, all I know is that neither one of us has spoken more than a few words to each other in the past week. I know I have my mind occupied with this Barbie thing, but I have no clue what his excuse might be. Maybe he's just too caught up with Barbie.

I decide that I should probably talk with someone to get all of this off my mind. I know that I'm someone who tends to bottle up feelings, but with this, I actually need advice. If I tell Chris what I suspect, the damage could be irreparable so I don't want to go into this half-assed. I leave my room and walk down the hallway towards the living room. Marissa is sitting on the couch with Kenny in her lap. He's been restless tonight so she's holding him in her arms trying to get the small child to sleep.

She hears me coming and looks over her shoulder, smiling at me as I come over and sit next to her. "Where's Shane?" I ask.

"He's reading to D," Marissa answers. "This one should have been in bed a half hour ago, but he's being stubborn and doesn't want to go to sleep even though it is way past his bedtime."

"No," Kenny mumbles, looking over at me imploringly, like I could save him from the dreaded sleep. He's in that phase where he doesn't really want to go to sleep when it's time for him to go to bed. He wants to stay up. He probably thinks that there's a party going on when he goes to bed and I wish there was a party when he goes to bed because then it might take my mind off what is going on with Chris.

"So what are you up to, being all secretive in your bedroom? Are you calling that guy that you went out with," she teases me and I glare at her, but that doesn't stop her from laughing. She's been teasing me since I came back from the date and told her what happened. There was never going to be anything between me and Danny. I don't even like that name and if I can't even find something redeeming about someone's name, what could possibly come of that?

"He wishes," I joke, making a distasteful face because I don't want to think about that because it leads me right back around to Chris and what's going on and I want to broach the topic with Marissa, but I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to do that.

"You should get yourself out there though, you know you should, it's good to start dating again."

"Again? When have I been dating in the first place?" I wonder and she realizes what she meant and then I realize what she meant and I cringe. Chris, she's thinking about Chris. I wish that were the case…wait, no I don't, if I've ever been with Chris, then I don't want to think about not being with Chris. In my ideal world, when I'm with Chris, that's the only thing that I want and the only person that I want for the rest of my life. So if I'm going to be with Chris, I'm going to try my damnedest to be with him forever, yeah, I know I'm getting really ahead of myself, but whatever, I can do whatever I want inside of my head.

"Sorry, I didn't mean that," Marissa amends her statement and I just nod my head at her.

"About that," I start to tell her, but then I pull back because I'm still not sure how I want to talk about this. But if I don't push on ahead, then I'm just going to not talk about it and bottle it up along with everything else. "I was hoping I could talk to you about Chris."

"Oh my God, you're going after him, aren't you?" Marissa sits up a little bit, a look of excitement gracing her face. "Finally, Stephanie, I've been waiting for you to make your move for _years_! I've known you for so long and I swear, as long as I've known you, I think you've had a crush on him. I don't know how he hasn't seen it though, I swear, men sometimes, they can't see what's in front of their face."

I've got to cut her off before she starts planning the rest of my life with Chris, "Wait, Riss, no, that's not what I was going to do."

"Oh, Steph, come on!" Marissa tells me. "You're going to let him ruin his life with Barbie? You know how Chris is, he'll try and do the honorable thing even if it isn't what he wants. You know that's the type of guy he is. I mean, is this about how he's going to have a kid? Plenty of people have kids with other people. Besides, can you even picture Barbie as a mother? If you and Chris were together, at least the kid would have a shot in this world."

"Riss, I really appreciate what you're trying to do and what you're saying—"

She cuts me off before I can even finish my sentence and I'm kind of peeved because I had the perfect segue and she just kind of ruined it. "Stephanie, I don't understand why you just don't grab him by the balls or whatever you want to grab him by and just go for it, what are you scared of?"

That's a loaded question if there ever was one. Marissa doesn't understand. She's been with my brother since they were teenagers, she's never had to have an adult relationship outside of my brother. It's hard out there. There are no guarantees and what if it didn't work out? I couldn't lose Chris, not after 29 years of knowing him. I wouldn't know…I don't know how to live without him is the thing. I just don't. It's like, I've never had to before. I've never had to actually live without him and the thought terrifies me. I don't want to ever be on the outs with him.

I know it's cowardly. I know I'm pretty much denying myself any chance of happiness, but I like to think of it as self-preservation. "It's not about that Marissa, okay? You're the one that brought it up, not me, I didn't even really mention anything about me wanting Chris."

"Except that you do."

"That's irrelevant right now. Please, can you just listen to me when I'm talking and give me your input afterwards because there is something and it is to do with Chris and well, when I ask you, I'm going to please ask that you keep personal judgment out of this and just listen objectively and give me some sound advice."

"Fine," she says with a note of exasperation, but I'm not the one who went on a rant. "I'll try."

"Okay, so…" I pause to collect my words, but also because it almost feels dirty to say this out loud. I don't want to incriminate anyone, but I'm about to. "Do you think…do you maybe…I mean to say…do you think that maybe Chris isn't the father of Barbie's baby?"

"What?" Marissa's eyes widen. "You don't think it's his?"

"I'm just asking you if you think there's a chance that he might not be the father and that's she's lying to him because…well, I'm not sure why…"

"Because Chris is a good guy, because Chris would do the right thing, because Chris is a catch?" Marissa supplies for me. She's right, that's probably why I think it. Anyone who knows Chris even just a little knows what kind of man he is. He's never been the type to hide who he is. He's a good guy and he wears that banner everyday and it would be so easy for someone to take advantage of him.

"Okay, so you think there's a chance then, I'm gathering," I tell her, rolling my eyes a little.

"Okay, yeah, I do, but what does this have to do with anything? Do you think that Barbie is lying to Chris and that he's not really the father of her baby because that would be wonderful. I was talking with Loretta and she is genuinely upset about the whole, but she doesn't want to say anything because she doesn't want to alienate him. Do you know something about it?"

"I don't have anything concrete," I explain. "When I was out with her friend, who she'd slept with by the way—"

"Wait, she set you up with someone she's had _sex_ with?"

"Yeah, she did. He told me they'd hooked up a couple of times, he called it full disclosure in case we went out again, which is never going to happen," I emphasize, "but he said that she was pretty loose and had slept with a bunch of people and that he was surprised she hadn't been knocked up before now."

"Wow…she's how old?"

"I don't even think she's 25 yet," I answer. "I just…it got me thinking. She's obviously slept around and maybe she just doesn't know or she doesn't want to talk to the real father…am I being stupid? I can't be objective about this. I like Chris, I'm…you know about Chris and me and how I feel and am I projecting what I want?"

"I don't think so," Marissa shook her head. "If she has slept around, there's always the possibility that it could be someone else."

"So what do I do? Do I tell Chris? I mean, he'll hate me if I'm wrong and I don't want him to hate me."

"I think you should," Marissa said, "or you could ask Shane to do it. He's a guy, he knows how to handle that guy stuff, you know what I mean."

"But if Shane says that it was me who put him up to it..."

"You know your brother wouldn't do that. Shane can be subtle. He and Chris are best friends, they've been best friends since they were five. If anyone can talk to him about it, it's Shane. Look, how about this, invite Chris over for dinner, Barbie's not there right now, right?"

"No, she had to go back to Tampa because she has a doctor's appointment," I answer. I'm just glad she hasn't found a doctor up here because that would mean she was coming here to stay and I don't want that just yet, not with all these doubts swirling in my mind. I guess once she has her claws in Chris, I'm thinking it'll be over, but I'm hoping that it won't be soon.

"Good, so invite him for dinner tomorrow night and he'll of course come because he's never turned down an invitation before unless he had some other engagement, so invite him over and I'll talk to Shane about it."

"Thank you so much," I hug her lightly seeing as how Kenny seemed to fall asleep while we were talking.

"I want you to together, of course I'm going to help," Marissa smiles at me. "I better put him in bed before he wakes up though. But go, go call him before his dance card fills up."

I laugh softly, feeling much better now and I go upstairs, readying myself to talk to Chris. This will be our first real conversation in a while and I want to make sure I don't sound weird or suspicious. Chris has an uncanny knack for picking up on people's moods. It's just one of his many talents. I go into my room, sitting down on the edge of the bed. I take a moment to collect myself before grabbing my phone and pulling up his number before letting it ring.

"Hey there, stranger," his voice floats down the line, "Where have you been, Scout?"

"Busy, you?"

"Same," he says and I guess things are a little weird. "So what did you need from the number one man in your life unless you've decided to replace me."

"Not yet," I tell him kiddingly, "I was just wondering if you were interested in coming over here for dinner tomorrow night. I know you're alone for now and Shane and Rissa would love to have you over and so would I, so what do you say?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"I guess not."

"You know I'll be there."


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and everything, everyone. I really, really like how this chapter turned out, so I'm hoping you will as well, enjoy, and review if you want to! :)

* * *

Sometimes my brother, God love him, is an idiot.

"So we needed to talk to you," Marissa tells her husband, grabbing him by the arm and leading him into the kitchen.

"What about?" Shane asks, looking between Marissa and I suspiciously. He's confused, but with good reason, he has no idea what we want to talk to him about, or rather, what Marissa wants to talk to him about. I'm just going along with this whole plan because Marissa is really kind of persuasive when it comes to this kind of thing, and she can get Shane to do anything she wants him to do.

"Well, it's about Chris."

"I'm totally okay with him coming over for dinner," Shane chuckles. Of course he's okay with it. He and Chris have been best friends for so long there's never a time where they wouldn't want to talk to each other. Well, except for that one time when Chris and Shane both liked the same girl when they were 14 and vowed never to speak to each other again. That lasted all of a week when said girl chose to go to some dance with some other guy.

"That's not it," Marissa says, gently pushing Shane into a stool at the counter of their kitchen. He looks between the both of us, his eyes narrowing, like he's trying to parse out what is really going on.

One thing my brother is, is a little bit dense. I don't think he knows I'm in love with Chris though. I think he and Chris are the only dense ones in my life. Maybe my father can be added to that list, but I think my father thinks I still shouldn't be dating. He's hated every man I've ever brought home. Nobody is good enough for me, he tells me after he usually drives them away. If I didn't love Chris, I would care that they left, but usually, I just deal with it, move on, get another man for a short time so as not to look like a nun or some kind of weirdo.

I wonder sometimes, what it would be like if I brought Chris home as my boyfriend. I can picture it now, my father would think he's just over for dinner because he's always just over for dinner. Then I would tell my father about Chris and me while holding onto Chris's hand, and my father would…what would my father do? I don't think he would throw Chris out. In fact, he would probably embrace Chris and say that finally someone I brought home is someone he's liked. I think my father would love the fact that he's known the guy I was dating since he was five years old. It would be reassuring to my father.

"Then what is it?" Shane asks, looking at me and shrugging a little, like I'm on his side against his crazy wife even though Marissa said "we," which implies that I'm in on this.

At the very least, I talked Marissa down from what she originally wanted Shane to do. She was going to tell Shane to ask Chris point blank if he thought about the whole paternity issue and where on the fence did he fall with truly believing the kid was his? I couldn't believe Marissa would even suggest something so blatant, but she insisted that it was the right thing to do, that Chris should know. To me though, it felt more like planting worms in his head, meant to burrow down into him. Things like this have to be dealt with subtlety, not with a hammer over the head or a frying pan to the face!

"Well, as you know, Chris is going to be a father," Marissa so tried to keep the disgust out of her voice, but it was so thinly veiled it might as well have been a glass window. Shane rolled his eyes slightly at his wife's pettiness. He didn't personally find Barbie attractive (she wasn't his type at all), but he knew that many men did, so to him, this was just his wife being kind of bitchy about so many men being attracted to this younger woman.

"Yes, I think we're all well aware," Shane say, referring to the disaster of a dinner. "But what about him?"

"Well, it's like this," Marissa clears her throat, "you're a father already, and I just thought it might be nice if you and Chris had a nice talk about the entire thing. I'm just not sure, I mean, Stephanie and I just aren't sure how ready for this Chris is."

"You don't think he's ready, Steph?" Shane looks around Marissa at me. I stand there, frozen, but then give a slight shrug as I try to find my voice. I don't want to tell him the truth, what I think, because then he might glean onto the truth, and my brother will tell Chris, and I'll be so embarrassed.

"I'm not sure," I finally relent and let my mouth actually open up and form words, though the actual string of them, I'm not entirely sure if they'll make sense, but I'll give it my best shot. "I mean, I know he will, he's a wonderful guy, and any kid of his is going to be wonderful and all that because of him, I just don't think he gets the whole gravity of it. I just…I want him to be okay."

"You don't think he's okay?" Shane asks now. God, why do I open my big mouth? I'm about two questions away from spilling everything. And as bad as Shane knowing I'm in love with Chris, if he knew everything about the _depth _of my feelings, it wouldn't be a good thing. I know how Shane will react if that happened. He'll give me a hug, run his hand down my hair as he threatens to kill Chris in cold blood in a voice that is very much scary.

He did the same thing when, in high school, Jonathan Bryan, cheated on me and humiliated me at the winter formal. I was a freshman, and he was a sophomore, an older man. I liked him so much, and I thought that for a while, I could forget about my massive crush on Chris. That was until Jonathan went behind my back and started dating this other girl. Then, when he took me to the winter formal, he very publicly dumped me on the dance floor and called me a little girl.

Needless to say, my brother and Chris were there, upperclassmen, and my brother came up to me, hugged me, stroked my hair once, and said he was going to kill Jonathan Bryan for hurting me. I believe my brother would have too, if Chris hadn't gotten there first. Chris has always been an actions first kind of guy. He immediately went after Jonathan, punched him so hard he got a bloody nose, and threatened that if he ever hurt me again, he would do much worse, then threatened that if he told anyone it was him who beat him up, he would find a way to get him expelled.

Jonathan never bothered me again…and apologized to me the next day.

Chris never knew I knew what he did, but I did. My brother is usually all words, and while that's all well and good, it wouldn't help in this situation. Not one bit. "No, I don't think he's okay," I plan a partial truth, "How would you like it if suddenly, you found out you were going to be a father with a girl you don't remember sleeping with?"

"Yeah, you're right, that's a very not okay situation."

"Plus, he's trying to get used to Barbie," Marissa adds. "I don't know about you, but that whole relationship seems forced."

"It does," Shane actually agrees, and I have to say, I'm a little surprised. "I mean, it has to be, right? They're only together because they've having a kid together. I mean, I guess I could talk to him about all of this, but I don't know, I might end up telling him to break it off with Barbie."

To say I'm shocked would be an understatement. It's like Shane is on my side without knowing he's on my side. If he could talk to Chris and suggest that, it would mean I wouldn't have to. I know at some point, I'm just going to need to tell him how I feel, but it's always so difficult to get those words out. Rejection is a great fear of mine, I've been working for years to combat any kind of rejection, and Chris's would undo me to the point where I think I would lose a big part of myself.

"You should still talk to him," Marissa urges. "He's coming in a little bit, and it can't hurt to have a man-to-man talk with him."

"No, I guess you're right."

After that, the dinner seems much tenser than it should be. Things are already pretty weird between Chris and me, ever since I moved out, but we push past that in order to have our meal. It's nice, Chris enjoys home-cooked meals so whenever he can get his hands on one, he's there. The talk is light, mostly about work, not delving into anything deeper, not right now. It's like the days past when Chris and I lived in the same house and were the best of friends, and far fewer people knew my feelings for him. We'd always come over for dinner, and have drinks, and laugh the night away.

"Hey, man, why don't we clean up since Steph and Rissa cooked," Shane says, seeing his opening. He glances over at me and Marissa with a sly wink, at least he thinks it's a sly wink.

"I'm all for that," Chris nods, standing up and starting to gather the plates. "You guys should go chill in the living room."

"Yeah, we'll bring in some wine after we're done," Shane tells us.

"Actually, I wanted to show Stephanie something upstairs, but call us down when you're through," Marissa tells them, grabbing my hand and practically dragging me upstairs. Both the boys are already asleep, and I can't for the life of me figure out what she wants to show me. She drags me into the master bedroom and almost throws me on the bed. I'm not sure I really want to know what's going to happen now. "I bugged the kitchen," Marissa tells me excitedly.

I stare at her agape, "What are you talking about, you bugged the kitchen?"

"I knew Shane would say he was going to clean up, it's his go to move. You might not know this, but we've pulled this before," Marissa says. "I don't usually bug the kitchen, but I thought in this case, it was perfect."

"How did you bug the kitchen? You have that kind of equipment?"

"No, of course not, but I've got this," Marissa says, pulling out a baby monitor from her side drawer. "It's okay, it's a spare, the real one is downstairs, on the coffee table. This was a spare one we got when I was pregnant with Kenny. Anyways, I've put the other in the kitchen and all I have to do is turn this knob and we can listen in, you want to?"

"That feels like an invasion of privacy," I tell her, biting my bottom lip.

"Stephanie, come on, I'm doing this for you," Marissa says, pouting exaggeratedly. "I just want to know what they're saying. Steph, if Chris has doubts, any doubts at all, you _have_ to tell him what that guy said. Chris is my friend, I've known him since I was a kid, if Barbie is trying to pull something on him then I want her gone, out of the picture."

"I mean, I do too, but…this feels wrong," I'm still undecided. It's so tempting to listen in, but this is a private conversation, and it kind of feels like I'm barging in on Chris's secrets.

"Just for a few minutes?" Marissa asks. "It won't even be long, just to make sure Shane is on the right track."

"You know, Ris, this is kind of low, even for you," I let her know in case she doesn't.

"I consider it a rally for true love," she tells me as she turns the baby monitor on. Shane and Chris's voices crackle through the transmitter.

"Yeah, I guess it is scary, but it's kind of cool too, right? I mean, being a dad is cool, isn't it?"

"Best job I've ever had," Shane reassures him. "I can't tell you how much those little boys mean to me. Your kid will mean a lot to you too…but…how about the mother of said child?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dude, you can't tell me this thing with Barbie feels natural," Shane scoffs. "I mean, you barely know the girl, you have said before you didn't want to date her, but now you're together and having a baby?"

I wonder when Chris told Shane he never wanted to date Barbie.

"I want to do right by the kid," Chris says, "this is how I know to do right."

"But you don't love her."

"I could learn to love her," Chris says, and I feel so sad for him in that moment. He shouldn't have to _learn_ to love anyone. He should just love, freely and blindly, letting it consume him in every possible way.

"That's not the right way," Shane says, "I mean, come on, Chris, you've been in love, right?"

"Of course I've been in love."

"Now, I'm about to get mushy, okay, I know it, you don't have to tell me, but in this instance, I think it's necessary. What did that feel like?"

Chris laughs, "Excuse me, you're asking me what it feels like to be in love?"

"Yeah, I mean, when I'm with Marissa, I just know I love her, you know. I love that she's always there for me when I need her. I love that there's always a joke on her tongue for when I'm upset or a shoulder to lean on when I'm exhausted. I love all her stupid quirks that bug me because even the bad things about her, which are few, are something I love. I love that I can feel so much for her."

"Okay, didn't need the life story, man," Chris says, "I know you love Rissa, you've loved her since we were kids even though you wouldn't admit it until you were 15."

"I had to let it develop, so think about those times you were in love, even if you didn't stay with that girl, tell me what that was like," Shane prompts him. I find myself sitting a little bit closer, thinking that this will somehow give me the key to Chris's heart.

"I guess, well, I mean, I've been in love, but never like, epic love, I guess."

"So what do you see epic love as?"

"It's coming home and seeing her there, knowing she's anticipating you being there, knowing she _wants_ you there. It's spending a night in, just lounging around with no expectations, no fancy clothes or makeup, just pajamas and pizza. It's having stupid nicknames for each other that bug everyone else. It's knowing that she will go anywhere with you and you would go anywhere with her, I mean, I guess that's what it is," Chris answers.

"See, now do you see that with Barbie?"

There's a long pause and I know the answer before Chris says it because he doesn't know Barbie well enough to say any of those things. "No, I guess not…but I don't know, I guess I just think I need to give it my best shot."

Marissa slowly turns off the baby monitor and sets it down. "What did you do that for?" I ask her.

"Stephanie," Marissa looks over at me like I'm stupid or something. She studies me for a moment and I lift my shoulders, wondering what's going on. This is good news, Chris doesn't seem to love Barbie, but then the bad news is he wants to try. I feel like I'm at square one, and we didn't even get to the part about the baby, and if Shane maybe hints about the true paternity, if there is something to it. "Don't you see?"

"See what?" Marissa gives a short laugh, almost a snort as she looks at me even harder.

"He just described _you_."


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and everything. We're getting into the meaty part of the story, so I hope you'll enjoy, review if you want! :)

* * *

I can't stop thinking about what Marissa said.

It's been a couple weeks, but every time I have some down time, what she said just goes ahead and pops right back into my brain. I try not to think about it, but it's a case of the more I think about not thinking about it, the more I think about it. I want to believe what she says, but it just seems so unbelievable that all this time Chris has been looking for me. I mean, _me_, Stephanie, have I really been everything he's wanted and doesn't know he wants? It almost seems unbelievable that maybe, somehow, I could really be what he wants.

Of course, there's the little matter of him having a baby with Barbie Blank. There's not really much I can do about that situation. I mean, he keeps saying it is what it is, and I have to agree, it is what it is. And what it is, is something that sucks. I mean, I'm not saying I would have a fast track to Chris if she wasn't in the picture, but…I guess after what Marissa said, I might consider trying to make him see what he wants is right in front of him.

Oh, who the hell am I kidding, I've been in front of him for the past 29 years, and he still hasn't seen me. Lost cause? Perhaps, especially now that he has a baby on the way. Even just thinking about it makes a lump grow in my throat. I just wish things were different, but I can't change the world. I can't go back in time and tell him not to be stupid. Our actions have consequences and there are so many choices, so many paths that led us right here.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," Chris slides into the booth across from me. "I had a hell of a time getting my bags and stuff from baggage claim."

"It's alright, I just ordered your drink for you," I point to the iced tea in front of him. It's lunchtime so no GG for him, but if this were dinner, I'd have ordered him a stiff one. "That okay?"

"Of course it is, Scout, you know what I like," he says, taking a sip and then letting out a breath. "I've missed you."

"You saw me two days ago," I remind him.

"I know, but that doesn't matter, I still miss you, the house is quiet when you're not around. You can't just live with someone for the past decade then not miss them when they move out," he points out to me. I'm warmed by the fact that he misses me that much. My presence is missed, and I'm actually just kind of glad.

"I got that condo we went and saw," Stephanie said, "they called me this morning to tell me that they accepted my offer. It just has to go through the proper channels and then it's mine."

I'm still apprehensive about moving into my own place, simply because I'm not used to being alone. I'm not scared of being by myself, I just know I'm going to get lonely. I guess I'm just one of those people who likes to be around others. I've never actually lived alone. I went from my parent's house, to a dorm, to my place with Chris, to Shane and Marissa's, and now I'm finally living alone for the foreseeable future.

"Wow, whenever you need help, just let me know and I'm there," Chris tells me. "Doesn't matter what I'm doing, I'm there."

"Thanks," I respond. "I'm going to need it, what with all my junk. So…how did it go down in Florida, everything went well I hope."

Chris had traveled down to Florida for a couple days because Barbie had her first official appointment and ultrasound and Chris really wanted to be there. Even if I hate the situation for him, I do want to know how everything is going. I'm his best friend, or at the very least one of them, and I want to be involved in his life, even if it's as the weird aunt-type person to his kid. His face lights up in a way I've never seen before and I realize that even if the woman isn't right for him, this kid will always be right for him. It's _his_ kid, and I can tell he's already head over heels.

"It was pretty damn cool," he says with an air of awe in his voice. "I couldn't believe it. I mean, I didn't go in while they were doing all the technical stuff, but they called me in when it was time for her ultrasound. I can't even describe it, Steph, it's surreal, absolutely surreal. You're sitting there, and they turn on this machine and then suddenly the room fills with this sound, and you're not even sure what it is, but then it's your kid's heartbeat and you realize this whole damn thing is _real_, you know. I mean, it's just so _real_."

"I can't imagine," I sit in rapture over the way his face looks. It's so damn happy that I want to cry, not out of sadness, but out of joy for my friend. Whatever happens between us now, future, whenever, I love this man as my friend, and when he's happy so am I, so I will always be.

"It's awesome, Steph, totally awesome," Chris is so bright right now it's like he's glowing. "It's so fast too, it's like, um, what did the doctor say, kind of like a hummingbird, yes, that's it. It's like this little hummingbird kind of thing, it's so fast."

"Wow…"

"Yeah, it's so wow, you'll have to come sometime, Barbie wouldn't mind, I don't think she'd really care if you were there, you're a chick, she wouldn't be embarrassed," he grabs my hands in his excitement, as if we're going to go right now and he's about to pull me from the booth to the doctor's office.

We're momentarily interrupted by the waiter, who takes our orders quickly, probably assuming by our joined hands that we're on some sort of date. Chris looks back at me, and he has to continue because he looks like he might burst if he doesn't. "Okay, go on," I prompt him before the words come tumbling out of his mouth in a jumble.

"Okay, so then they turn on the machine, the ultrasound and they put this jelly stuff on her stomach, then the wand thing, blah blah blah, it's a dot, the baby is just a dot right now, like the size of a date I think they compared it to, like my kid is some kind of fruit. But it's tiny, oh man, hold on," Chris reaches away from me, and he pulls out his wallet. "I completely forgot I had it."

I can pretty much feel what's coming, but he opens his wallet anyways and pulls out a piece of paper. He unfolds it once as he slides it across the table for me to see. It's exactly what I picture it to be. It's an ultrasound picture of his child. I mist up a little bit over the idea that this will never be us, that I will never give him this first child to be so excited over. I look up at him and give him a smile because I really am happy for him, just not for me. I look back down and see the red circle around what must be his child.

"So that's them, huh?" I ask stupidly.

"Yup, that's him or her or it," he laughs, "that's the kid right there. Barbie called it the jelly bean, which, uh, sure, the jelly bean. I just call it the kid for right now, but yeah, that's my kid right there, crazy huh? I mean, I know that Shane has had Dec and Kenny for a while and we've babysat for them all the time, but it's so different now. I can't even describe it. It's like I'm just about to burst from everything. That's crazy, isn't it?"

"No, Chris, it's not crazy at all," I tell him, "it's called happy."

I've made a new resolve for myself. After seeing Chris so happy over his kid, I've resolved that I'm going to be nicer to Barbie. I can't keep acting like she's this blight on my existence. She's going to be in Chris's life for the rest of his life therefore she's going to be in my life for the rest of my life. Chris is a huge part of me, and I can't just ignore her forever. Even if things don't work out between them, there's a child now.

I want to be friends with her…okay, I want to be at least _acquaintances_ with her. I can't pretend like I'm going to be besties with Blondie, but I'm sure as hell going to try. That's going to start with inviting her to dinner, just the two of us. I figure she'll enjoy the gesture. There are a lot of great places in Connecticut, and we can drive somewhere along the coast, and it'll be my treat, and my way of saying that she's going to be welcome here. My family and Chris's family weren't the warmest to her, but I'm going to turn it around for Chris's sake.

It'd be so easy to just not include her, but what purpose is that going to serve? Once the baby comes, we're all going to love it, that's a given, so we just have to get used to the mother of said child. I know Loretta and Marissa have been whispering in my ear, trying to get me to make a move on Chris, but I'm not going to do that. What Marissa said is a moot point. If Chris wants me, I'm right here, I've always been here. I'm not about to force the guy into anything. That's his choice to make. If I put myself out there now, it's going to seem like a desperate attempt to get him away from Barbie. I've got _far_ too much dignity for that.

So I'm at Raw, and I'm looking for Barbie because today is the first day of the rest of our lives. Okay, that sounds kind of cheesy, but I'm trying here, you have to give me that. I wander the halls, trying to avoid people I know because I'm not in the mood to talk until my objective is completed. I have tunnel vision for Barbie Blank and the only person who could break that…walks around the corner.

"Scout, hey!"

"Oh, hey, Chris," I wave to him. I don't want to tell him what I'm doing with Barbie. I want it to be a surprise for him. I want him to be proud of me for taking the initiative.

"Where you going? You look like you were on a mission," he jokes, and of course he knows my determined look.

"Just working," I lie to him, although I technically _am_ working because I'm at Raw so I'm working, just not this very second.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt whatever you were doing, carry on," he moves out of the way, sticking his tongue out at me as a side note. "I wouldn't want your dad to get pissed at the both of us for goofing around by…talking."

I laugh, "Don't worry, he's not around, is he? I'll see you later though."

"You better," he warns me and I'm off again, glancing behind me briefly to make sure Chris isn't following me. He's done that before, told me he wasn't going to follow me, then following me to bug me. He's walking the other way though and I breathe a sigh of relief. I turn a few corners, but I still don't see her anywhere. I've been looking for a while so I turn back and realize I can cut through the parking garage where the production trucks are located and get back to my office quicker.

I'm walking through when I hear Barbie's voice. It's not easy to miss. I brighten up and start walking towards her. She's on the phone with someone and her back is towards me. I start to walk over again when I hear her talking. "Please, I'm begging you, please, you have to believe me."

She sounds a little desperate and I hope everything is okay. I open my mouth to speak, but she's talking again. "It's yours, okay, it's yours, I'm telling you the truth, why won't you just claim it as your own!"

My eyes widen. There's just no way, there's _no_ way she can be talking about what I think she's talking about. She has to be talking about something else, a car, some money, a dog, but not what I think she's talking about. "I know you're married, okay, I know you are, but I can't go on like this anymore."

I don't know what to do, but when she turns slightly, I find myself ducking behind a crate. Great, now I'm _that_ girl, the one who spies and looks like an idiot doing it. But this is far too important to not listen to. What's going on? My brain is absolutely reeling over what I'm hearing. I can't even really comprehend what's going on. I still don't know what she's talking about definitively, but I can certainly guess.

"I'm horrible. He doesn't deserve this," Barbie pleads. "I never wanted it to be like this, but I don't want to be alone!"

That bitch, that little bitch. How could she?

"I'm not getting an abortion, that's out of the question, how could you even suggest that!"

I want to know who she's talking to so badly. I wish I had super hearing so I could know who the man on the other end is. My brain shuffles through every person on the roster who's married. I'm not certain it's someone here, but they had the best access to her so I'm assuming.

"No, I'm not, I can't do this anymore, do you hear me, I can't do this!"

Who is it, Barbie, who is it, I chant in my head over and over again. Then she reveals it and bite my lip to keep from gasping.

"No, Randy, I don't want to do this anymore."


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and reads and what not, very much appreciated. We're really getting into the meat of the story, hope you enjoy it, and reviews would be nice, so please leave one! :)

* * *

I don't even know what to do with myself. I don't think I've ever felt so frozen before. It's like I'm petrified and immobile. The words, _her_ words, wash over me, and I'm not entirely sure I know what the emotions coursing through my body are. There are too many, so many that whoosh by my brain, and I'm trying desperately to grasp onto one, but it's too fast, and suddenly another emotions is flying by. I feel myself sliding down against the trunk I'm hiding behind, and I just sit there, totally unaware of any of my surroundings.

When I come through the fog, I'm angry. I'm so angry. I hate Barbie in that moment. The things I want to do to her come as fast and furiously as did the emotions I was feeling a moment ago. I'm so angry with her deception. I can't believe someone, _anyone_, would do this to another human being. Why did she do this? Because she knew Chris would take responsibility? But why target Chris? Because he was just a good guy? How could Barbie come into her parent's house and lie to an entire houseful of Chris's family?

I want to punch her in the face, but I'm reminded she's pregnant, and it's probably frowned down upon, even if that woman (girl!) is nothing more than a lying bitch. For a moment I think about Randy, and poor Randy's wife. I've always known Randy was a pretty bad flirt, and that on occasion he had probably cheated on Samantha, but this was beyond that. He'd gotten Barbie pregnant, and apparently thought it was the right idea to deny he was the father.

How can Randy walk around, knowing Barbie was pregnant with _his_ child and let Chris think it was his? I've lost respect for him too. I've lost respect for both of them, not that I had a lot to begin with, but now…and I wonder how Barbie knows that Randy is the father if she slept with Chris…unless she never slept with Chris? Is that even possible? Well, Chris can't really remember what happened. God, would she do _that_? My mind is spinning.

"Stephanie," comes a panicked voice and I look up and see Jay standing above me. Quickly, he kneels before me. "Are you okay? Are you sick?"

"I'm…okay," I say slowly.

"Are you sure, you don't look good," Jay says, reaching out and touching my forehead. "Well, you don't have a fever, what are you doing sitting on the ground?"

I realize that Barbie must have left and so I'm just sitting here on the floor, resting against a trunk, and I feel so stupid. "I just…I was just…"

"Are you sure you're okay? Did you fall and hit your head," he reaches out to presumably touch my head and see if I have a lump, but I gently grab his wrist, and he looks at me with a worried expression on his face.

"No, I didn't fall, I was just thinking," I try to explain my current situation away even though this is not someplace someone would normally go to think, and I know he's about to call me out on it.

"On the ground behind a trunk in the garage?" Jay plays it out just the way I thought he would. "Is something wrong?"

I want to say everything, but I can't tell him what I just heard. Chris needs to hear first, oh God, I have to tell Chris. I can't not tell him, I can't keep this to myself. He needs to know this. He's already so excited, and if that baby comes, and he thinks it's his, I cannot let him lead himself down that path of destruction. It's going to hurt, I know it is, but he has me, and he has my family and his family, and we'll be there for him. I can't let him live this charade anymore.

"Stephanie," Jay calls out to me, waving his hand in front of my face. I realize I zoned out again. "Are you sure you didn't fall?"

"No, I'm sure, I'm sorry, I've just got something on my mind," I tell him, giving him the best smile I can at the moment, but I know it's coming out more like a cringe.

"Is this about Chris?" Jay asks quietly.

My eyes shoot up to his, "What?"

"About him and Barbie?" Jay asks. There's no way he knows, but what if Randy has been spreading stuff, what if they all know and they're just mocking Chris somehow, letting him believe this.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it must be difficult to see them together…considering, well, you know," he rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably, "how you feel about him and everything. I mean, I know it has to be kind of hard to see them together, and with Chris so happy about the baby…"

"Oh," so that's what he meant. Of course Randy wouldn't spread something like that. There would be a chance it would get back to Chris, and Randy wouldn't want that, and he would want it to get back to Samantha even less.

Jay moves so he sits next to me, "I know it sucks, but you know what, if you really want Chris…I don't know, it's not set in stone that he'll be with Barbie forever. I know he's trying things out right now, but between you and me, the guy has nothing in common with her."

"I know," I tell him, "I'm okay with that, I mean…I'm not okay, but I've accepted it."

Maybe I don't have to accept it at all. Chris is going to need me there…and God, Stephanie, you cannot possibly be thinking about making a move on a guy who is about to learn that the child he thinks is his really isn't. My job, first and foremost, is just to be there for him. It's going to be so hard for him to give up this child, and I need to be there for him as a friend. Anything else can come after he's had time to heal.

Jay wraps his arm around me, "For the record, I don't know what guy would want Barbie over you, you're so much cooler and prettier."

I give a short laugh, "Thanks for the pep-talk, Jay, but really, I was just thinking about something I have to do that I'm really not looking forward to doing."

"Oh, well, in that case, whatever it is, I'm sure you're going to rock it," Jay gave her a companionable squeeze. "Come on, let's actually get off the floor, it's a little weird now. What if someone comes by and sees us sitting on the floor together, they're going to think we had sex, and that's the last thing I need Denise to think."

I giggle and accept his hand when I stand up. I'm so lucky to have friends around here who are so willing to cheer me up when I'm down. I impulsively throw my arms around Jay and give him a big hug. He returns it without hesitation and I revel in it a little bit. "Thank you," I let him know, "for talking to me."

"You know I'm here for you," Jay pulls away and looks at my face. "Do you want me to walk you somewhere? I don't have anything for a while so I'm free."

"No, but thanks. I'm going to go talk to Chris for a little bit. I'll see you later though, okay?"

"Sure, later, Steph," he walks off and I stand there for a moment and take a deep breath. I need to steady myself because what I'm about to tell Chris is probably the hardest thing I'm ever going to say to him. I don't know if I'm ready to say it, but I know it needs to be said. The longer I keep this to myself, the worse it's going to be when he finds out the truth. I will not keep something like this to myself, not something this big.

I know where Chris's locker room is and I stride there purposefully. I try to plot out in my brain what I'm going to say. I don't really know, but I have to do with grace, grace I'm not sure I even possess. I've never been one who has been eloquent and full of words. I'm too blunt, like my father, and that bluntness has sometimes gotten me into trouble. This situation has suddenly turned incredibly precarious, and I know that if I say something wrong, Chris might break, and I don't want him to break.

I reach his locker room far sooner than I was hoping, and I stand there for a second. Just as I raise my hand to knock, it opens and Barbie is right in front of me. I can't stop the glare from coming to my face, but then I mask it because she doesn't know I know. She gives me a bright smile, and I give myself a mental reminder that when I'm done with Chris, I will handle Barbie. I can't very well fire her, but I will take care of her somehow. I will make sure she pays for hurting Chris like this.

"Hi, Stephanie," Barbie says to me like nothing is wrong. How can she just have a discussion with Randy then go right to Chris as if nothing is wrong? From the look on her face and Chris's face, I'm taking a wild guess and saying she didn't tell him the truth.

"Barbie," I say shortly. "Chris, can I talk to you, it's kind of important."

"Sure, Steph," Chris's brows furrow together because he can tell I'm serious with the tone of my voice. "I'll see you later, Barb, and we'll go out to eat after the show if you're hungry, okay?"

"Great, thanks, Chris," Barbie leans up to give him a kiss, and I resist the urge to push her off of him. That punch to her face is looking more and more appealing as the seconds tick by. Chris smiles at her as she leaves then turns to me. I have to put on the mask again or he'll read me like a book. It's such a shame he knows me so well, and I can't possibly hide most things from him, save for that one biggie thing I've got going on.

"What's up?" Chris ushers me inside his locker room, pressing his hand on my lower back. I try not to flinch at the contact, but he notices and he gives me a strange look. "What's wrong? There's something you want to tell me."

"Damn it," I mutter. I was hoping to ease into it, to make the blow a little more padded, but that's not going to happen no matter how easy I try to make this. Chris loves this child, this small thing that's barely even human-shaped right now. I'm about to rip it away from him. "Chris, please sit down."

"Okay, now you're really scaring me," Chris tells me, and his voice actually quivers. "Did something happen to you? Is there someone that Shane and I are going to have to kill because I'll do it, I swear, if someone hurt you, I'm getting put into prison."

"No, it's nothing like that, will you please just sit down?" I beg of him. He tentatively sits on the couch while I pace in front of him. "I came straight to you because I didn't want you to hear it from anyone else, and I know it's going to be difficult to hear, but I just needed to tell you because I can't let you continue on like you're doing."

"What are you talking about?" Chris's eyes follow me as I walk around. "Stephanie, would you please stop pacing?"

I try to, but my legs still itch to walk around the room, to stand behind him so I don't have to look at him when I say the damning words. "I don't know how to tell you this, I really don't."

"When have you ever dragged something out? What is so bad that you can't tell me?" he wonders. He's worried, I can feel it coming off him in waves and hitting me with it. I bite my lip, as if that will stop the words from coming out.

"Chris," I pause because I just can't help it, I don't want to tell him. I wish it was his mom who heard because she would be better at this, but she's back in Connecticut. Would Shane work? No, Shane wouldn't be nice. My dad…Jesus Christ, that'd be the worst. "Chris, Barbie's…the baby isn't yours."

He freezes, I freeze, I think time freezes for just a moment. I run my hand through my hair and push it out of my face. He just stares at me, staring at me as if he's never seen my face before. I bite my lip again, harder this time, to the point where it starts to hurt, but I keep biting it. I need to let him react first, then I'll go into my rant against that blonde bitch.

"Chris—"

"How could you, Stephanie?" Chris asks harshly. "How could you say something like that? I mean, I get it, you don't like Barbie, but what gives you the right to try and do this? Are you really that mad at me over this?"

"Chris, what, no, no, no," I shake my head, "I'm not lying, I'm telling you the truth, I would never lie to you, not about this."

"After the way you and my entire family has been treating her? So what, you thought that this would solve the problem?" Of all the reactions I may have expected, this wasn't even one of the options. I'm hurt that Chris would think I'd stoop this low to break him and Barbie up.

"No," I whisper, "I wouldn't lie to you about this, I love you too much."

I gasp a little at my confession. Chris's eyes widen and he stands up to stare at me. I didn't want it to come out like this…or ever. With the way I reacted, I know he knows that I didn't mean as a friend, not the way I said it. He looks at me, and suddenly, his face becomes clear, the fog of my feelings for him has finally cleared, and he knows. He knows because for the first time, he really sees my face. His eyes glaze over, and I know he's going back in time, he's thinking back as far as he can remember.

"How long?" he wonders.

There's no way to avoid this question, "I started liking you when I was 10."

He stands there, staring at me for a second, or is it a lot of seconds, I'm not really sure how long he looks at me. He runs his hand through his hair, and it looks like he's lamenting the fact he cut it off and there's really nothing to run through anymore. I think my eyes give everything away, but it's like he doesn't want to look at them and see what I really feel. I know this is unwanted, that he doesn't have these feelings for me, but standing here, like this, I feel so vulnerable. My heart is right there, right in front of him, and I'm flayed open.

He laughs, but it's not a happy laugh, it's almost an anguished one. "Wow…"

"Chris, I didn't, that's not what this is about," I want to run out of here, but I remain rooted to the spot, whether it's because he needs to know the truth or I'm so stunned I came out and said everything, I'm not sure.

"Of course it is. I see it now, I see why you're doing this now. You're jealous because it's not you," Chris says, and it's like he's shot me right in the heart. My eyes fill with tears. How can he think I would only do this because I love him? If anything I would want him to be happy. It feels like everything we've ever been to each other is suddenly down the drain, and for what? A lying blonde and another man's child.

"Chris, that's not it," I try valiantly to keep my tears from falling. "I heard her, just now, she was on the phone with Randy, she was asking him to take claim to his child, she said it was his child. Why would I lie?"

"Now you're dragging Randy Orton into this?"

"No!" I yell at him. "I wouldn't do that, you know me, you _know_ me, Chris!"

"I thought I did, until you became this…person," he gestures towards me. "This is my kid, Stephanie, and yeah, I get it now, you're upset that it isn't you, but face it, you're not having my kid and Barbie is."

"She's not!"

"Just stop, I can't believe you would stoop this low. I mean, what did you think was going to happen, that I was just going to fall into your arms or something? You tell me that you've been in love with me for _that _long and then you drop this bombshell on me. Really, Stephanie, I thought we were better friends than that. Get out of here, I don't want to see you right now."

"No," I tell him, and my anger is starting to flare up again. "No, I'm not going to leave until you listen to me, and how can you ever think that I would come here and lie to you. I've known you for 29 years, and you can't tell when I'm lying."

"I don't know anything about you anymore!" He's clinging to the idea of his child. He loves that child right now, thinks it's his, and that that child is his future. I know it's hard for him to let go of it, but I want him to see. He has to see, and I'm trying so hard to be patient, but I'm not a patient person, not when I'm being falsely accused of this bullshit.

"Chris, please listen to me," I plead, stepping forward, but he takes a step backwards. "Chris…"

"No, no, I can't believe you," he says, shaking his head. "I can't believe you would do this to me. If you're not leaving, I am, and just…don't talk to me for a while, Stephanie. I don't want to see your face."

And then he was gone.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and everything, everyone. I really appreciate it, and I'm glad you like the story. I really got into the groove this chapter, and I think I like how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy it! :)

* * *

"I'm going to kill him."

I bite my lip, "Rissa, that's not going to solve anything."

"I don't care, I'm going to _kill _him. I can get away with it, we have the money, I'll get the best lawyer money can buy. They'll make it look like it was justified because believe me, this is justified," Rissa sounds and looks so angry that I'm thinking I might have to actually physically restrain her.

"And what would that solve?" I ask her. I just wanted someone to talk to, and Marissa has always been someone who will listen and usually she's rational, but this has broken her. It's broken me, but not in the same way.

I haven't talked to Chris since our argument. I've barely even seen him. The only time was in passing at the show. He's avoiding me. I don't know if he's talked to Barbie, though I suspect he hasn't because I can't imagine she would point blank lie to his face after such a confrontation. Of course, I don't know what's going through her mind because she's pinning a child on a man who she knows isn't the father. She's already a liar so she very well could deny it, make me look like the bad guy, dig this chasm between me and Chris even deeper.

I don't even know what he's thinking about me right now. He probably will never want to talk to me again, which is bad because that baby isn't his. If he won't listen to me, who will he listen to? His mother? But I don't want to drag anyone else into this. It was difficult enough talking to Marissa about this, but I just couldn't keep this to myself. This news was life-changing, and it couldn't be kept to myself, not with something that will change Chris's life.

"It would make _me_ feel better and it would make you feel better," Marissa tells me, and she's seething. I don't think I've ever seen her this angry. I'm not even sure what she's angriest about. Is it Barbie being a liar or how Chris treated me or just everything all at once?

"It wouldn't make me feel better," I say, "the only thing that will make me feel better is Chris believing me. It doesn't even have to be me that he believes, just believing anyone. I don't want him to go through his life thinking this child is his when it's not."

"I can't believe that little whore let us all believe that it was Chris's baby. We invited her over for family night!" Marissa is getting her ire drawn up again, and I squeeze her arm. "That's why we never invite anyone ever."

"Well, I wouldn't call her a whore, we don't have to resort to name-calling," I try to remain rational. Yelling, screaming, and cursing Barbie's name isn't going to help matters, and it doesn't even make me feel better.

The worst part of all this is that I kind of feel bad for Barbie. Now that I've had time to think over the situation, I really can't help but feel a little sorry for what she's going through. She had to be so scared to find out she was pregnant by a married man. I'm not condoning what she's done, not at all, nor do I agree that she should have done what she did, but I can at least see where she's coming from. She's young, she was alone, and she just wanted someone who could be there with her. Chris is that guy, Chris will _always_ be that guy, and it left him an easy target.

"She's a home-wrecker, can we call her that?" Marissa asked. "I have a good mind to call Samanth and tell her what's going on. Wife code and all that, right?"

"I don't know what that is," I laugh mirthlessly. "I don't think telling Sam is the best way to go either, but I was thinking that maybe I could talk to Barbie? I mean, I know what's going on, and maybe I can get through to her."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Marissa asks, seemingly coming back down to Earth. "I mean, she could just lie to you or tell you something like it wasn't your business. Plus, and I hate to say this, but she's holding all the cards right now. Chris doesn't believe you, and if you go to her…it could get worse."

"Believe me, Rissa, things couldn't get worse."

"What do you mean by that?"

There's one part of the story I haven't exactly told my sister-in-law yet. I was trying to keep it to myself because the humiliation is still so raw in my head. I still can't believe I actually told Chris that I love him. I never wanted him to find out, at least not like this. I guess the stupid romantic in my head always thought it would be some grand moment when the time was right. That's the key right there, when the time was right. It wasn't supposed to be in the middle of an argument, and he wasn't supposed to accuse me of being a manipulator right after. And he wasn't supposed to run out on me, but he did that, and well, now I have to go on suffering while knowing he knows everything about my deepest, darkest secret.

"I kind of…told Chris that I love him," I confess, scrunching up my mouth afterwards like more words are going to randomly escape.

"You…what!" she exclaims, almost as floored by this as she was when I told her that Chris wasn't the father of Barbie's baby. Marissa leans back in her chair, her eyes wide and staring at me. "Oh my God, Stephanie, what…when…how did this happen?"

"Well, it wasn't supposed to, but it just kind of came out when we were arguing."

Marissa slaps her hand against her forehead. "Stephanie, what am I going to do with you? I'm guessing he didn't take it well since you two haven't been holed up in a bedroom for days on end…that's kind of how I pictured it when you two finally got your acts together. You would just go in your bedroom and make up for lost time."

"Yeah, nope," I shake my head, "he told me that's probably why I was lying, that I was just jealous of Barbie, and that's why I was telling him these lies."

"Okay, _now_ I'm going to kill that little snot," Marissa said.

"Rissa!"

"I've known him almost as long as you have, and he's acting like an asshole, Stephanie, hell, I could know him for a month and still tell you that he's acting like the world's biggest douche," Marissa said, "why would you lie to him? If you love him, why would you lie to him?"

"I thought the same thing, but…"

"You need to talk to him," Marissa decides. "You need to talk to him, and you need to get him to see the truth."

"No, no, no," I shake my head. Getting humiliated once was quite enough, thank you. I'm not eager to get back into that fight. And I already know what Chris is going to do if I go see him again. He's going to think I'm there to apologize, but I've got nothing to apologize for. If he wants to talk to me, he's going to have to come find me.

"Yes, yes, yes, we can't let him go another day thinking Barbie is it for him, that that kid is his. You are meant to be with him and—"

"Rissa, please," I cover my face with my hands, "Chris made it abundantly clear by how he acted that he's not in love with me. I mean, there wasn't even any kind of reaction that could be construed as positive. There wasn't even a spark. If anything, he felt pity for me because I was in love with him."

"He's just reacting that way because he was in shock over what you said," Marissa is my biggest champion in my quest for Chris, well, maybe tied with Loretta, but Loretta cannot know about this, not from me, not this way. Chris has to believe it first. If I tell Loretta, he's going to think I'm ganging up on him, and he'll be even madder.

"You don't know that."

"Of course he is, he probably just wasn't expecting it, but that doesn't mean his feelings aren't there." Marissa sounds more desperate than I do, and that's saying something.

"Rissa, please, don't make this harder than it is. Fact remains, he knows. He knows, and what he chooses to do with that information is his own thing."

The doorbell rings and I look at Marissa. I'm not really expecting anyone, so this is weird. I walk down the stairs to the front door, wondering who it could be that's coming to visit. I'm just getting settled in my new place, and it's still a mess, boxes everywhere, and I'm in no mood to receive visitors. Shane and his friend helped me get my bed set up, and that's about all that's here besides a table and some chairs. Living with Chris meant we shared furniture so I have to go shopping for it, but after this whole debacle, I haven't been in the mood.

I open the door and I'm speechless, well, not completely, there is one word I manage to say, "Chris?"

"Hey," he says sheepishly, running his hand over the back of his neck, something he does when he's nervous. "I, uh, had this lying around, and I bought it before, so I figured I would drop it off." He thrusts a gift in my direction. I stare at it dubiously. "It's a housewarming gift."

"Oh, well, thank you," I take it from him, but I make no move to open it. If this were a few days ago, I would have torn it off in a rush to see what he got me. Then I would analyze the thought behind the gift.

"Steph, who is it?" Marissa lightly treads down the stairs until she's right behind me. I can almost feel her glaring. "Oh…it's you."

"Rissa."

"Chris," she returns, her voice filled with venom, and now I am picturing myself physically restraining her.

"Rissa, I've got this covered, you can go back upstairs," I turn to my sister-in-law. She looks at me, asking if it's wise that she leaves. She's also asking permission to slug him, which I cannot give her. I wish I could, I wish I could slug him, but that wouldn't solve anything, and I'm trying to be the mature one here.

"Fine," she says, but not before glaring at Chris something fierce. If her eyes were lasers, he would be a pile of ash on the floor. She goes slowly up the stairs, flipping Chris off when he can't see her. I give a snort of amusement before I turn back to Chris.

"I guess you talked to her about what happened," Chris sucks at his teeth a little.

"She's practically my sister," I say in response. He's known her forever, he knows how this works. That's the thing about all this, we all have our places, we all have our roles. Our families, and Rissa's family too, we've all known each other for so long, we all know each other so well that when some of us fight, we all know it.

"So…did you want to apologize?" he has the audacity to ask me. I blink a few times because I'm not sure I heard what I heard. That's not how this is supposed to go. Now, granted, I don't know how this is supposed to go, but it's not him here demanding an apology.

"What?" I ask with a scoff. "You expect me to apologize for what exactly?"

"For claiming that my kid isn't my kid," Chris tells me, and I just shake my head.

"I'm not going to apologize for telling you the truth," I say to him, my voice hard, "if anything, you should be here apologizing to me. I'm your friend, Chris, I'm your best friend, and if you think I'm shallow enough to lie about something like this for my own personal gain then you don't know me at all."

"You can't expect me to believe that you have no vested interest in what happens between me and Barbie," he argues, and this argument is so stupid. He's so stupid, and I really do want to punch him right now.

"Yes, I expect you to believe that because regardless of who you're with, regardless of what life throws at you, I have _always_ been there for you, always been honest with you—"

"Oh, is that why you didn't tell me, in over 20 years that you were in love with me?"

"No, I didn't tell you because I knew you didn't feel the same way!" I yell at him, and I hate that it's all coming out this way, but I have to defend myself, and if this is the only way, it's the only way. "I did it because I didn't want to ruin our friendship, and I've always been fine just being friends with you, always! It didn't matter if you were with someone, I supported you because I was your friend! I was the only one who _tried_ to welcome Barbie when it was obvious nobody else in our family was going to, so why would I lie about this!"

"Because you want me for yourself!"

"Yes, I do want you for myself, I've wanted you for myself for a very, very long time, but I'm not the type of person who would lie about someone's child! Chris, you've known me since I was three years old, you've known every part of me, you've always known—"

"I didn't know you were in love with me! So obviously I don't know what else you may hide!"

"She was talking to Randy Orton! On the phone, she was talking to him! She was telling him, begging him to take responsibility for her child because she wanted him to because she hated what she was doing to you! And you know what the first thing I did after I heard this was? My heart broke for you, I just sat there, I sat there because everything hurt _for you_! I know you wanted this baby, I saw how excited you were. No, it wasn't under the most ideal circumstances, but I was happy for you! I immediately went to tell you because I didn't want one more second of hurt for you, Chris Irvine! And yes, that is _because_ I love you! So if that's how my love has affected things, so be it, yes, that's all my love has done for you."

"Stephanie…" His voice is changing now.

"I have loved you through everything we've been through, Chris, through every hardship. I have loved you on the days where you wanted to quit wrestling because you insisted on making it on your own. I loved you after you called me and told me you were held at gunpoint and I went to bed shaking that night, praying for the first time in ages that you would be safe. I loved you when you decided to go to WCW before you came into the WWE. I loved you Jessica, Chris, through _Jessica_ who hated me, who told me I should move out. I've loved you through everything, and give me one instance, Chris, give me _one_ instance where I haven't been there for you, where I haven't tried to be the best friend you've ever had."

"Steph…" It's softer now, almost sorry.

"So how dare you," I'm starting to cry because I can't help it. I wipe at my eyes angrily because I don't' want to cry in front of him. Crying in front of him makes me look weak. But maybe I am weak. I don't want to fight with him, I hate fighting with him, especially over my love, a love he's only acknowledged as a burden. "How dare you come to _my_ home demanding an apology! You know what, whatever, believe Barbie, believe whoever the hell you want. You obviously aren't a friend to me if you think me so horrible as to want your child not to be yours. Because that's what you think, Chris. You think I'm petty enough to lie to you about a child, about _your_ child. So get out! Just get out! And don't ever try to contact me again!"

I shove the gift back in his arms and slam the door in his face.


	22. Chapter 22

"Steph."

"What?" I sniffle because my nose has felt stuffed for the past few days. My voice sounds rough too, probably from my incessant tears. I want to stop crying, and sometimes, I do, but then I start to feel awful again then I start crying again.

It feels like a break-up, except somehow it feels even worse than that because I've essentially lost my best friend. Wait, what am I even saying, I _have_ lost my best friend. There has never been a world that I can remember that didn't have Chris in it, but we feel so fractured now, I'm not even sure how we can ever repair this. That's how bad things are, that's how bad I feel right now. I feel like there's no hope, and where there's no hope, there are only these stupid, incessant tears.

I shouldn't even be crying so much. It sucks when you have the awareness that you should get over something, but not the actual strength to do it. It's Shane's turn to try and get me out of bed. My mom was first. She came over and sat down on the edge of the bed, grabbing my hand and rubbing it between both of hers. She told me she didn't know what caused this huge fight between me and Chris, but that we always worked things out in the past, so why should this be any different?

I bawled when she said that because everything was different now. She probably thought it was because I was in love with him and he was with Barbie. I didn't bother to correct her. Instead, I apparently cried myself to sleep, and after that, it was Dad's turn. He came in, told me to get my chin up, walk out the door and show the world who was boss. I'm pretty sure if my eyes contained lasers, my dad would be headless right now. He took the hint and hightailed it out of here, probably muttering how this wasn't the McMahon way.

Now here comes my big brother, and he lies across the bed from me, staring at me like he used to when we were little and I was upset. Even though he's only a couple years older than me, he's always felt like a bigger presence, like this giant in my life. He looks at my sympathetically, and I know that Marissa told him what was going on, I know he knows the truth. There's a mixture of sadness and anger in his eyes, and I know he wants to beat up Chris, but he won't because Chris is his friend too, and it just doesn't feel right.

"You've got yourself in a real great situation here, haven't you?" Shane asks me redundantly. I can't help but laugh because I _have_ gotten myself into quite the predicament. I only nod slightly in response though. "You know you're better than this, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"I'm not going to force you out of bed like Dad and I'm not going to coddle you like Mom, but I do know that you should just leave him behind. He's not worth this, not after what Rissa told me."

"I was just trying to help him, Shane. I didn't want him to get heartbroken."

"I know," he tells me, scrunching up his mouth a little, "and he's the idiot who wouldn't listen to you. None of this is your fault. It's not like you asked to know the truth, you simply stumbled on it. But if Chris isn't going to listen to you he's not going to listen to anyone else either."

"No, it's because he knows I'm in love with him. If it were you, you'd have no agenda, you aren't in love with him, he'd believe you had his best interest at heart, but he thinks everything I'm doing right now is tainted because I love him."

"I can't believe you managed to keep that hidden for so long," Shane snorted a little, just a breath of it, just to show his disbelief. I'm about to start laughing because Shane is so genuinely shocked that he didn't know.

"Shane, I think you and Chris were the only ones that didn't know I was in love with him," I tell him, "okay, maybe Dad too, but I think everyone else knew."

"What?" He looks confused, like he actually didn't realize until his wife told him. I just stare at him, wondering how he could have been so oblivious for so long. But that's my brother for you, if you don't say something to his face, he's bound to miss it. Subtlety has never been his strong suit.

"Shane, are you kidding me?" I scoff. "I never really made it a secret. I mean, I thought I did, but it was pretty obvious to everyone except the men in my life. It's for the best, this thing, it's for the best, and I'll be fine, I'll get better, and I know it's not the end of the world, it's just…how could he have so little trust in me?"

"I don't know, but I do know he's an idiot. I told Dad we should book him in the worst matches, losing to everyone and anyone, hell, let's put him in a feud for the women's title or something."

I start to laugh harder. Shane has that effect on me, stupid brothers. They always know what to do and say to make you feel better. I'm lucky to have such a good one, even if he is a bit oblivious sometimes. "It just hurts to think that after being friends for so long, he thinks I would be so petty as to lie to him about this."

"I would beat him up for you if I could, Steph," he tells me, and it's sweet that he would, "but I know you, and I know you wouldn't want that. I'll glare at him though, and he's getting the silent treatment from me, after today of course—"

I glean onto his words, "After today, you mean you spoke with him today?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," Shane looks uncomfortable and I actually sit up, and yes, I'm pathetic, and I don't care. It's been days, and I just…I just kind of want to know how he's doing. I can't just turn my emotions off, so of course I still care about what happens to him. If I've done anything, accomplished anything with this, maybe, just maybe it's going to make him question Barbie's intentions. Maybe I've planted some seeds; it's all I can really hope for right now.

"What did he say?"

"He just…well, he wanted to know if you were okay, if you were still mad at him," Shane says uneasily sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. Well, at least he cares on some level, but it's not enough to repair any of the damage he inflicted on me the other day.

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him that it wasn't his business anymore," Shane responds sheepishly. I laugh again because that's probably what I would have told him to say. "If he wants to know how you are, he better come over here, begging on his knees for your forgiveness. I'm not going to play spy for him. You're my sister, and that trumps best friend. He'll have to grovel, to all of us really."

"Really, to all of you?"

"Because we all love you, even his mother is pissed."

"Loretta is mad?" Stephanie asks. "Oh God, I didn't even think about this getting back to her, I almost don't want to know what her reaction to this was, I mean, she knew I was in love with him, she's probably reaming him out right now."

"She's angry, that's for sure, but nobody else knows why Chris is so angry."

"It's not my story to tell, not my news."

And it isn't. I can't do that to him. While it's the truth, every word of it, spreading it like wildfire would make it seem so false, and besides, I would never do that to Chris. This is between Barbie and Randy. They were the ones that cheated, and she is the one that is stringing an innocent man along. Still, I can't drag this through the mud because I would never drag Chris through that. I don't want to make him the laughingstock, the butt of all the jokes. I may not want to see him or speak to him, but I don't want bad things for him.

I would never want that.

"I know, but…it's just…you know, this whole situation is all kind so fucked up," he doesn't know what else to say, and really, what is there to say? "Are you sure I can't rough him up a little on your behalf?"

"I'd rather you not," I tell him, "I think I'm ready to get out of bed and go out."

"Yes! Praise the Lord," Shane throws his arms up. "Okay, we were hoping you'd say that because Rissa and I already made dinner reservations, so do your girly thing, and we'll meet her at the restaurant and she's bringing the boys, so you'll have their cuteness to keep your mind off things."

"Good," I find myself smiling at the thought of seeing my nephews. They're my little boys, and if anything can put me in a good mood, it's those two. They are always the light of my life. Shane gets off the bed and leans down to kiss the crown of my head before he leaves the room to let me get ready, closing the door behind him. I stare at my rumpled bed and climb out of it.

The mirror is not my friend today though, and as I take in my appearance, red-rimmed eyes, flushed cheeks, stuffy nose, cracked lips, and limp hair, I know I need some serious work. I take a shower first, washing away the days of grime, and the hurt that Chris left me with. I start planning things in my head, I still need to decorate my new place, and I should get on that. It's a project, and I'm good at projects.

I've been doing my work from my bed, so I'm not necessarily behind, but there's always more to do. Yes, I can get back in the swing of things. The void that Chris will leave can be filled with other things. There are plenty of things in my life to fill the space he left. It's not like I don't have other friends, I do, and I'll be fine. I should call up a couple of them and go dancing or something this weekend. That should be fun, and I'm already feeling better about this whole thing.

I wish I could say something like, "I went so and so years without Chris, I can do it again," but the fact remains that I haven't. There's never been a time in my life that I can remember where he hasn't been in it. But that doesn't mean I still can't move on. If he comes to his senses, I'm not going to welcome him with open arms. His distrust of me is a really big deal, and I'm not going to forgive it so easily, if he ever wants to apologize to me. I don't even know if that's going to happen right now.

He could very well go the next 18 years thinking that kid is his. I don't want to think he's so naïve that he won't even consider that I'm telling the truth, but it's possible. He wants that baby because he thinks it's his, and maybe he's so far convinced that it is, he won't listen to any reason. I really should talk to Barbie, maybe get her to see reason, but I just…I don't want anymore of this. I want no part of it.

For the first time in my life, I want nothing to do with anything Chris-related.

And on this first night, I try not to think about him. It's hard because we go somewhere he likes, but I push it out of my brain as Kenny sits on my lap and colors in the coloring book Rissa brought for him. I lean my chin on his shoulder as he tells me in his broken, toddler language what it is he's coloring. Declan is talking his ear off next to me, telling me everything he can about his school and how much he loves it and how many friends he has. This is what I needed, all of this, my family. I'm going to be okay.

Being without Chris will be hard. There are going to be times when he'll be the only one I want. There will be moments where I'll want to ask him something, and my hand will already be on the phone to him before I remember that we're not speaking. He's going to pop into my brain when I see something he'd like or when I watch something he watches. There's no way he will cut cleanly from my life. I just have to accept that there will be moments of struggle, but maybe this is what I need.

I need to really start living. I want to get married, I want to have children of my own, and maybe it's just time to give up the dream with Chris. Maybe that's all it was ever going to be, a dream and nothing more. It was nice while it lasted, that dream, those watery, hazy thoughts that someday he would love me. But it's reality check time. He doesn't trust me, doesn't think my word is worth anything. There's no relationship here, none, zero, and it's about time I realize that.

Maybe Chris rejecting me is going to be the best thing that ever happens to me.


End file.
